Secrets of a Matchmaker
by KiraKira-Kirimi
Summary: Noah let the biggest secret of his entire life slip. To Geoff. Ah, what havoc is sure to ensure! No pun intended. Noah x Cody, other canons. On OFFICIAL hiatus until December.
1. Mon Douleur

**The Secrets of Playing Matchmaker:**

**Chapter 1 – Mon Douleur**

**Summary: **Noah let the biggest secret of his life slip. To Geoff. Ah, what havoc is sure to ensure! No pun intended. [Cody x Noah, other canons]

**A/N: **I apologize in advance for any OOC-ness of Noah. I tried my best, but sometimes I may have slipped. ^_^'

**Disclaimer: **I do not own TDI, despite my offer of twenty cents and a bottlecap. Bottlecaps just don't have the same value anymore. T.T

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Noah rested his head in his hands, gazing off into the distance. Like always, his feet dangled in the water below him as a book lay open in his lap, but today, something was different. Rather than his usual aloof demeanor, Noah was lying under a dark, ominous cloud that no one else could see. His shoulders were hunched, his chin drooped, and dark bags had formed under his eyes, as if he had spent the entire night worrying. The entirety of his aura seemed to have wilted.

The other campers sensed this, and left him alone. Even Katie and Sadie had scented the gist of his mood, and were nowhere to be found. Of his own doing, Noah had formed a bubble of seclusion around himself, but he seemed to be oblivious to it.

But now, Geoff couldn't take anymore. As the party man, it was his duty to spread the love, and Noah was in sore need of a good pick-me-up and kick-me-sense. Thankfully, that was Geoff's specialty, so like it or not, Noah was about to be paid a visit by Dr. Geoff, Psychiatrist in Fun.

Finally, Noah stood and began to wander listlessly away from the pool. Geoff discreetly followed him, although his stealth skills were severely lacking. But while the other losers watched him in bewildered amusement, Noah seemed too down to notice his party-boy stalker. That is, until Geoff cornered him.

As Noah punched the button to call the elevator, the hairs prickled on the back of his neck. He spun on the spot, to be faced with the sight of Geoff lounging against the wall, scrutinizing him with a raised eyebrow. Geoff smirked, amused it had taken the other boy so long to notice he was there.

"What's up, man?" Geoff greeted, pulling a hand out of his pocket to give Noah a lazy wave.

Noah's eyes narrowed suspiciously. If he was smart enough to figure out how to hack into his school's servers and cancel their surf control, he could tell when someone was acting. And Geoff certainly smelled fishy just about then. "What do you want?"

"Whoa, whoa!" Geoff laughed, holding up his hands in mock defense. "Not so prickly, dude. I just want to know what's up."

"What do you mean?" Noah replied curtly, watching the floor levels above the doors flash. What was taking that elevator so long?

"I mean, man, you seem so down," Geoff answered. "I wanted to see if I could help."

"Really?" Noah said dryly, but his usual tone was too tired to make it seem convincing. "Well, you can't."

Geoff raised an eyebrow and smiled his signature grin. "Nuh-uh, man. I'm gonna make that decision myself. So, tell me your problem, dude, and I'll decide if it really is just your problem. Then you won't hear another word from me. Deal?"

"Yeah, right." Noah snorted half-heartedly.

"No, seriously," Geoff insisted. "I'll leave you alone and won't tell a soul if it really isn't any of my business. But it kills to see someone so down. So, dude, just tell me."

Noah sighed. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

"No, man."

Noah rolled his eyes, but just then, the elevator _dinged_, sounding its arrival, and the doors slid open. "Fine, I'll tell you," Noah said finally, stepping in. "But just so you get off my case." Holding the doors open, he gestured for Geoff to follow him.

Geoff blinked, taken aback. That hadn't taken quite so much effort as he had expected; Geoff had thought he would have to follow and harass Noah all day, but apparently Noah was not nearly as staunch as he came off to be. But maybe he was just tired and on the verge of caving anyways.

"Well, you coming?" Noah prompted, impatiently raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, sorry dude!" Geoff replied hastily as he jumped in. Noah gave a theatrical sigh and released the doors, letting them slide shut behind him.

But rather than punching a button for a floor level, Noah dug in his pocket and withdrew from it a small object that looked more or less like just a black circle. But as Geoff opened his mouth to inquire as to what it was, Noah turned the circle over in his palm and flipped a switch. A small LED light flickered on at the top, and Noah pushed the circle back into his pocket.

"It jams the cameras," he explained. "Chris has them everywhere."

"Oh, I see," Geoff replied, although he really didn't. He had thought that, once off the island, they were off the show for good. It hadn't once crossed his mind that there might be hidden cameras at the Playa des Losers. But, you learn something new every day.

Still leaving the button panel neglected, Noah slid to the floor and crossed his legs. Taking the hint, Geoff followed suit.

"All right," Noah began. "If I tell you this, there is one person you must promise _not _to tell. I don't care who knows, as long as that one person does _not_. And it will be obvious who the person is by the end, so I don't have to say it now."

"Is it Chris?" Geoff put in.

Noah winced. "Yeah, well, don't tell him, either. But there's one other person."

"Oh, okay," Geoff replied, bewildered as to who this mystery person could possibly be. "I promise, man. So, why're you so down?"

"Could you _please_ be patient?" Noah retorted.

"Oh, sorry."

"Whatever." He coughed. "Anyways, the thing is . . . I like someone, someone who doesn't return my feelings." Noah glanced away, but not before Geoff noted a pinkish tinge creeping up his face.

Geoff couldn't resist a grin. Now, _that _was something he understood. Frankly, he was surprised Noah hadn't come to him beforehand for advice, but he supposed it was just his aloof nature. "Really?" he asked. "Who?"

Now Noah smirked, a glimmer of amusement sparkling in his sad eyes. "Believe me, you don't want to know."

"I do, man!" Geoff insisted, leaning forwards eagerly.

"Fine," Noah replied, and crossed his arms. "But you have absolutely no idea what you're saying."

"Whatev's, dude. Seriously, who is it?" Geoff was practically glowing with impatience now.

"Cody."

Silence met this revelation. Blinking, Geoff gaped in stunned astonishment and rocked backwards, and, seeing this, Noah raised an eyebrow.

"I told you that you didn't want to know," he muttered accusingly.

But at this, Geoff raised his hands defensively, warding off the unspoken assumption radiating from the other boy. "Woah, woah!" he said. "I never said anything of the sort. Really, man, I'm just surprised. I had no idea you were _gay_."

Noah didn't meet his eyes, and Geoff saw him playing with his hands in a nervous habit that seemed very uncharacteristic. Geoff's eyes softened. "Hey, man," he said quietly. "Seriously, it's okay. You like guys – so what?"

"You seriously don't care?" Noah responded, his frown dubious.

"Not at all, man. You're still you, right?"

"I guess so," Noah replied. His dark skin was still distinctly flushed, but his expression had calmed and begun to take on its usual imperturbable quality again. Then he sighed. "So, that's the story without the minutiae. Thanks for caring, but you obviously can't do anything." His tone was quickly becoming curt as he returned to his typical self.

"Yeah, sorry, man," Geoff agreed sagely. "I feel bad for you, and you, you know, you can talk to me whenever."

Noah nodded briskly as he wordlessly turned to the button panel. Geoff waved as the doors slid open again, and Noah returned it with a small half-smile that Geoff knew he was very lucky to receive.

But suddenly, Geoff spun on the spot as a thought occurred to him. "Hey, if it's not too raw . . ." he began quickly, then swallowed as he realized what he was about to say.

Noah raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Yes?"

"How did Cody reject you?" Geoff blathered off. "I mean, I find it hard to imagine . . ."

"He didn't," Noah replied brusquely.

"Then how –,"

Noah rolled his eyes, cutting him off. "Cody's straight, obviously, and would never feel the same. What's the point in even trying?" He shrugged, then the doors slid shut again, and Geoff was left staring at a cold, steel wall.

Geoff blinked, incredulous. Noah was quite literally _depressed_, and he hadn't even _tried_ asking Cody out? In the party boy's eyes, that was next to blasphemy. Emotions were one of the most sacred aspects of life; they were beautiful, deadly, and most importantly, unpredictable, but Noah was completely disregarding all of that. It was as if he didn't care at all for his own happiness. That made Geoff almost angry.

Geoff sighed. Had Cody actually rejected Noah, the story would over, sad but complete, but Cody had done nothing of the sort. Clearly, that meant that no matter how much Noah denied it, there was still more to be told, still more chapters in progress.

And Geoff was going to help write them.

A great grin spread across his face, and then he whooped in excitement, looking quite insane to the average onlooker. He loved a challenge like this, and since Duncan and Courtney had gotten together, he'd had practically no complex romances to play any role in.

"Bring it on, dudes!"

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Watcha think? Tell me by clicking on that pretty little button below and REVIEW! I just posted a ton of fanfictions, and whichever gets the most reviews shall be completed. So review people, review!


	2. L'entervue

is up! ^.^ This is so much fun to write, and now I have a _study hall _(HALLELULAH!) to work on it in every morning. That makes me so happy!

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The party was in full swing that night, as the loserscelebrated their freedom – again – from the tyranny of Lake Wawankwa. It was only one of about twenty such parties since the start of the show, but the intensity and excitement hadn't dulled at all; when you have suffered the most inhumane and probably-illegal torture on the face of the planet, day in and day out, the novelty never grows old.

Geoff, too, was having the time of the life, as he moved across the dance floor in his usual party-high. The music seemed to course through his veins, and his goofy grin widened as he spotted Bridgette watching him. He felt he could go all night.

Then his gaze fell upon Cody, laughing with Trent by the punchbowl, and he felt himself be suddenly pulled back to earth.

He'd completely forgotten about Noah's predicament, and his promise to help in the heat of the party, but now, he realized, Noah wasn't even present. Not that Noah ever did really party, but he normally at least lounged in the corner, a book in his hand.

This absence shattered Geoff's party-flow. How could he dance and kick back, when he'd forgotten such an important responsibility? Noah's heart was at stake here, but he had done nothing. Geoff had entirely neglected his duties as the party man!

Almost overcome with self-loathing, Geoff quickly excused himself from the dance floor. But he could not mope for long; even if his job had momentarily slipped his mind, it just meant he had to come back, stronger than ever. And now, in the excitement and energy of the party, it was a perfect time to begin. His resolve hardened, he quickly approached Cody.

**Step 1: **Establish Cody's already-existing feelings.

"Hey, Cody!" Geoff greeted cheerfully. "'Sup?"

"Not much," Cody replied, with his gap-toothed smile.

"You guys enjoying the party?"

"It's cool," Trent said, lifting his cup.

Geoff grinned in response, although he cursed inwardly. Trent was cool and all, but right now, he was really in the way; Geoff respected Cody's privacy, and besides, he _really _didn't want Trent figuring out what he was up to.

"Did you hear about Gwen's headaches?" Cody asked suddenly, and Geoff brightened. Of course; Gwen had been suffering from head-splitting migraines as of late on the island, and all the losers on the island were deeply sympathetic. This could be used to his advantage.

Trent winced in response. "Yeah, I feel really bad for her," he said ruefully.

"Does she take Tylenol?" Geoff asked.

Trent shook his head slowly, pushing his hands in his pockets. "She left it at home . . . I bet she's really beating herself up about that right now."

"Hey!" Geoff exclaimed eagerly. "I have some in my room right now, man. Why don't you send it to her on the island?"

"Really?" Trent replied, immediately brightening.

"Yeah! I suffer from migraines, too, dude. I never go anywhere without it." It was brilliant luck. "You want to go pick it up? It's just on the counter of my kitchenette."

"Man, that'd be awesome!" Trent said as Geoff dropped his room key into his palm. "Thanks a million."

"Don't mention it, dude," Geoff replied.

Trent grinned, and vanished.

"I hope she feels better soon," Cody muttered as he took a large swallow from his glass.

Ah, yes, Cody's crush on Gwen. A very important aspect of the specific issue on hand, it was a concern that a lesser matchmaker may have seen as an obstacle, but Geoff, with his imperturbable optimism, felt he could use it to his advantage. Pouring himself a glass of punch, he lounged against the table.

"You're pretty cool about her rejection," he commented. "You're not bitter at all, man."

Cody glanced up in surprise. Then he flushed, shrugging sheepishly. "Yeah, well, she's happy with Trent," he said. "And he's a nice guy, too."

Geoff grinned. "Awesome, dude. If it had been me, I'd be down for weeks."

"Well, the Code-ster's back in the game," Cody chirped, mimicking Geoff's relaxed slouch.

Inwardly, Geoff cheered. Had Cody still been pining over his loss, it would have been cruel to set him up with Noah until he was ready, and Geoff knew it was imperative to respect the emotions of both boys. But of Cody was still looking for love (even if not for boys, specifically), it was the first green light in the project of matchmaking.

Faking a cough to hide the overly-excited grin he couldn't quite suppress, Geoff took a large swallow of his punch. "So, uh, what kind of person are you looking for?" he asked finally, careful to keep the subject asexual.

Cody grinned, giving a laid-back shrug. Geoff bit back a chuckle; Cody reminded him of a child trying to emulate his elder brother, with much too innocent a nature to entirely pull it off. But he bit his tongue as Cody answered: "Just . . . someone special, I guess."

"Yeah, but do you have a _type_?" Geoff pressed eagerly. "Like smart? Strong? Cynical? _Masculine_?"

"Masculine?" Cody echoed in bewilderment. "You mean, like Eva? Eww, no!"

Geoff backpedaled quickly. Perhaps that had been too up-front. "No, not at all, dude," he said hastily. "I meant, uh, independent."

"Oh, well, I'm not sure," Cody mused. "I guess strong and honest is important. And you need to be able to talk, so friendship, too."

Geoff mused about this for a moment. The boy may not be the coolest kid on the block, but he definitely understood more about life than he let on. But this was a little worrying; Noah wasn't really a very friendly person, and he didn't exactly strike one as extremely honest. He wasn't a liar, per say, but nor was he the most open person at the Playa. Geoff frowned.

"Well, what isn't important?" he asked finally.

"Not important?" Cody echoed, his brow furrowing in confusion. "You mean, like looks?"

"Yeah, man, or like, uh, gender?"

Cody's head shot up, and his eyes widened incredulously. Under the intent, blue-eyed stare, Geoff felt himself break out in a nervous sweat. "Gender?" Cody repeated in shock. "Did you say 'gender'?"

"Wha-? Uh, what, um, no!" Geoff stumbled nervously, hardly comprehendible. He couldn't believe he just said that; so much for discretion. "I said gen – genre!"

"Genre?" Cody looked dubious.

"Yeah, genre. You know, what kind of movies and books. That sort of thing, man."

Cody frowned uncertainly, and Geoff caught his breath. But then he shrugged, and Geoff let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"I don't know," Cody said finally. "I guess it's not the most important thing, but it'd be cool if I found someone who read science fiction, too."

Science fiction, huh? That would be something to ask Noah. Geoff didn't know what, exactly, he was always reading, but he was really smart, right? It was a high probability. (A/N: This is stereotyping, kids! Don't do it!)

"But, you know," Cody was saying. "Everyone is so awesome here – mostly. I'm happy I made so many cool friends."

Relieved to be out of dangerous waters, Geoff replied with almost a little too much alacrity: "Yeah, man! People here are amazing, aren't they?"

Cody grinned, his eyes sparkling like an eight year-old's. "I mean, Trent's not at all jealous that I like Gwen, too -," Geoff winced. "-and I can talk on friendly terms with almost everyone. Even Noah's nicer."

Geoff brightened suddenly, as if shot by a bolt of lightning. "Noah?" he barely dared to breathe.

"Yup!" Cody replied, trying a little too hard to assume a cool, relaxed posture. "You see the way he's somewhat civil with us, now. I bet if he was on the island again, he'd do a lot better."

"Yeah, man, you're right," Geoff answered, heroically suppressing his dazzling euphoria. This was exactly the kind of information he was looking for, and he'd stumbled upon it without prying. It was pure luck, and to Geoff, it was a sign that he was on the right track.

Just then, Trent squeezed back through the crowd to return to the punch bowl. "Hey, thanks, man!" he said, handing Geoff back his room key. "I gave the Tylenol to an intern heading to the island. Gwen will be really grateful."

"No problem, dude," Geoff replied. "I know migraines suck big time." He grinned, his party-high beginning to unfurl in his veins. Perhaps he had botched the beginning of the interrogation, but everyone made mistakes, and besides, the final part of the conversation was incontrovertibly successful. Geoff buzzed with irrepressible excitement.

Maybe he should do this matchmaker thing more often.

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**Geoff is so conspicuous . . . ^.^ Lol. Stay tuned for next chapter!**


	3. Je ne veux dire

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter**** 3 – ****Je****ne****veux**** dire**

**A/N:** I can't believe how useful these study halls are! ^.^ And now, orchestra is cancelled until Friday, so I technically have _two _every day! Kirimi-chan is very happy.

**Exclusive Disclaimer: **I do not speak French. The chapter titles are courtesy of my mother's wonderful translation skills. Thanks, mom!

And by the way, the chapters in English are:

1.) Mon Douleur – My Pain

2.) La entervue – The interview

3.) Je ne veux dire – I don't want to say

I'll try to remember to translate the chapter names in the future!

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On with the story!

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It had been two days since Geoff had spoken to Cody, but Noah was still oblivious as to what the party-boy was planning. Geoff had not approached him again, and life at the Playa progressed as uneventfully as always; Noah assumed he had agreed that the crush was none of his business, and left it alone.

Noah stretched out on his bed, tossing his well-thumbed book unceremoniously over his head. When he had first arrived at the Playa, Noah had been rather vexed to discover that although the resort seemed to have everything the average teenager could ever want, the one thing they had failed to include was a library. Consequently, he was stuck poring over the few books he had brought with him for the hundredth time, and by this point, he most likely had them memorized. Why was it so implausible that maybe some teenagers might actually _enjoy_ reading? Stupid, stereotyping producers.

At least, however, Noah had enough foresight to bring with him his Nintendo DS, and although he chose not the play at Lake Wawankwa in the interest of persevering battery life, he was no longer deprived of the electricity necessary for recharging.

How he loved the beauty of modern technology!

So, now, rather than plodding in utter boredom through the last chapter of his book, Noah opted instead to occupy his time with the miracle he fondly referred to as his handheld.

With a lazy yawn, Noah rolled out of his bed towards the desk where his DS had been charging. Then his gaze fell upon the empty table, and his eyes flew wide in surprise.

The DS was gone.

Noah's heart skipped a beat in shock and fear as he registered this fact. He didn't know what to think; he could clearly remember leaving it there just that morning, but the cold evidence of its absence was staring him in the face. But he'd never misplaced something as important as his videogames even once in his life. How in the world could it have disappeared?

Almost hyperventilating at this point, Noah took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. Freaking out was not going to help him find the DS, he told himself; the key was to remain cool. Closing his eyes for split-second meditation, Noah carefully reined in his whirling thoughts back to their usual, collected state.

Alright, the DS was gone. Now, how had it vanished?

**1.) **Someone had taken it.

**2.) **It had grown legs and walked off on its own accord.

**3.) **He had misplaced it.

Option two was absolutely outrageous, so he could disregard that without a second thought. That left him with options one and three. Option one was many times more likely in his eyes, but at the same time, accusing someone of thievery was serious business; unless he had clear, hard proof, he didn't want to get mixed up with it. It was better not to be hasty, and to deal with the issue as if he had truly just misplaced the DS. Besides, it would not be difficult to switch approaches if he did stumble across some evidence.

Spinning on the spot with so much alacrity that he surprised himself, Noah strode purposefully towards the door. If he had misplaced the handheld sometime during the course of the day, he intended to retrace and scour his steps until he found it.

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It was well past midnight when Noah fell back onto his bed, dejected and depressed. He had searched the entirety of the Playa, even the most remote and unlikely places, such as the tennis courts and boat houses, but in vain. The DS remained well-concealed, and with every passing moment, Noah's suspicions of thievery deepened. But it was late, and it was clear to him that any further search that night would be fruitless. So, his mind still in an unsettled whirlwind of frustration, Noah fell deeply into a troubled slumber.

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"Hey, what's up, man?"

At the sound of Geoff's cheerful greeting, Noah glanced up from arranging a Belgian waffle on his plate, and frowned.

"What?" he asked, evenly meeting Geoff's inquisitive gaze.

"You're looking down again, man," Geoff stated. "You okay?"

But there was something strange in his expression, like baited anticipation, and Noah sighed inwardly. He had no doubt that Geoff was expecting a new development in his romantic situation, but of course, the party boy would be sadly disappointed. That relationship was going nowhere.

"I'm fine," Noah finally replied, his curt tone never faltering. "I just seem to have misplaced my DS." He turned away from the buffet table, intending to find a nice, quiet table at which to relax in solitude. However, Geoff seemed to have different ideas.

"Seriously, man?" he asked, trailing him. "That sucks, dude!"

"Yes, yes, doesn't it?" Boredom laced through his voice in his cold response.

Geoff was undeterred, although his eyebrows rose slightly. "Did you check the laundry closet around the corner?"

"Why would I?"

"Well, man, you know that if the cleaning ladies found it in your pockets, it'd be in there," Geoff told him. "There's a big basket in that closet with everything they find."

Noah frowned, a little bothered by the fact that he needed help finding his own handheld. But Geoff brought up a decent point, if the DS truly was just misplaced. He had not completely disregarded the possibility of the thievery, but nonetheless, it could never hurt to try.

"Alright," he answered finally, setting his plate on an empty table. "I'll be right back."

Geoff could not resist a small smile, as he watched Noah stride out of the room with the air of injured pride. Frankly, he was quite surprised that Noah had believed and trusted him; generally, it was common knowledge that it was a bad idea to listen to one's self-appointed matchmaker. Of course, Geoff was pleased that Noah's memo seemed to have gotten lost in the mail.

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The laundry closet was small and cramped, lit only by a single, bare light bulb hanging overhead. It seemed surprisingly dirty and low-class compared to the rest of the Playa, but there, in the corner, lay the basket Noah assumed Geoff had been talking about. Ratty and old, the basket was clearly ready for retirement, and Noah was frankly quite impressed that it still managed to contain the waves of teenager possessions pouring out of it.

Clearly, few people knew about this basket, Noah pondered as he pulled a putrid sweatshirt and a dog-eared comic book off the top. Some of the items had obviously been there for a long time, and somehow, that realization made him feel better about accepting Geoff's assistance.

Just then, the door creaked open, and a shadow fell across the room. Somehow suppressing his cry of surprise, Noah stiffened defensively and spun on the spot. But then he relaxed and flushed in embarrassment as he recognized the newcomer.

At the door, Cody grinned sheepishly, apparently having noticed Noah's startled reaction. "Sorry. Did I scare you?"

"No," Noah replied, his tone thick with sarcasm. "Just give me a second to restart my heart."

Cody couldn't quite suppress a small laugh at this, and Noah smiled slightly. His heart was still thudding nervously, but now for entirely different, and ambivalently more welcome, reasons. Thankfully, however, Cody seemed to attribute his deep blush to the indignity of his previous overzealous reaction.

"So, uh, why are you here?" Cody asked finally, his expression inquisitively friendly.

Noah shrugged. "I'm looking for my DS," he replied, gesturing vaguely at the wilting basket.

"You lost your DS?" Cody answered, aghast. Noah just shrugged again, but then Cody brightened eagerly. "I'll help you look!" he said. "I'm just picking up a new towel, because Geoff spilled orange juice on mine."

Noah's head shot upwards in surprise, his eyes widening as alarm bells began screaming in his head. "Geoff?" he echoed.

As if on cue, the door suddenly slammed shut, and an ominous click rang throughout the room.

Cody yelped in shock, as the door had nearly closed on his fingers, and Noah cursed inwardly, realizing what had happened. He should have seen this coming; how could he have been so naïve?

Cody jangled the doorknob nervously, but to no avail. It was well and truly locked. He pounded on the door. "Help!" Cody cried. "We're locked in!"

Noah's ears perked up as he noted a small, poorly-concealed chuckle from the other side of the door. However, Cody had not seemed to notice it, and as to not invoke any uncomfortable questions or confrontations, he said nothing. With a small sigh, he turned back to basket and began to sort through it once more.

"What are you doing?" Cody inquired, clearly bewildered.

"I'm looking for a hairpin or something," Noah replied curtly. "I can pick the lock."

"Oh!" Cody said, his eyes brightening. "Would this work?" He pulled from his pocket a small paperclip, dented and worn, but it was a paperclip all the same.

Noah smirked slightly and plucked it out of his hand. "It would, thanks." With deft hands, he bent the paperclip and unwound it, so that it was in the proper shape he needed. Cody watched, excitement bright in his eyes. Apparently, he felt that being locked in a laundry closet with Noah and having to smart their way out was something of an adventure. If only he understood the true gravity behind their situation, Noah thought grimly, he wouldn't be nearly as eager to be so friendly.

The doorknob rattled loudly as Noah pushed the paperclip in and intently tackled the lock. A strained moment passed.

Then a welcome click sounded through the room, and the door swung open. Noah let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, then glanced back at Cody with a genuine smile spread wide across his face. "And there you go," he said, having difficulty restraining a boastful tone.

"That was awesome, Noah!" Cody exclaimed, lifting his hand to slap him a high-five, and, flushed but pleased, Noah hesitated only momentarily before obliging.

"Come on," he said. "Get your towel and let's go. My DS clearly isn't here."

As Cody hastened to obey, Noah peered down the hallway suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. But Geoff had long since vanished, no doubt having fled upon hearing that Noah could pick the lock. But no matter; he could not hide for long.

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**Dare I say it? A chapter every two days! (gasp!) And they're getting longer each time. Wow . . . I've awed myself. But my apologies; I am going to take a day's break or so to sort out the gaps in the plot and rest a bit. Not that I don't love writing this, but "too much of a good thing" . . . ^.^'**

**Anyways, I don't know how to pick a lock, so please don't blame me if it's not possible to pick a lock with a paperclip.**

**As always, please review, and I'm also accepting more ideas for the story. I can finish without, but it'd be nice to lengthen and deepen it. Thanks, all!**


	4. Le Débuté Nueve

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 4 ~ Le Débuté Nueve (New Beginnings) **

**A/N:** Well, I tried to take a break, but even on my "day off", I could hardly stop planning and thinking about this story! I swear, fanfictions are my (anti-) drug. My best friend is joking about putting me on a twelve-step process to get me off it. ^.^' I probably need it.

Also, has anyone been watching the marathon on Cartoon Network? I finally got aforementioned friend to see it, and she says she loves the show! :3 Of course, we're now at odds over Cody; I think he's completely and utterly "adorkable", and she says he's just plain creepy. Oh well . . . she just has more dignity than I do. (And I love her for it!)

**Exclusive Disclaimer 2: **I am greatly indebted to my little sister, who, although she hates the couple, and the series (and well, anything I like in general), has graciously spent much time brainstorming with me and helping me in various aspects of the story. ^.^

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Let the matchmaking BEGIN!

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It wasn't until much later in the afternoon, when Noah was heading back to his room to change out of his sodden swimming trunks, that he finally encountered Geoff again.

Shivering and cursing the Playa for its absurd levels of "comfortable" air-conditioning, Noah rummaged in his pocket for his room key as he stopped before the entrance to his suite. But then he fell still suddenly, and strained his ears to catch something he wasn't quite he'd heard.

And there it was again. Along the conjoining hallway sounded the rhythmic _step-step-step_ of another's approaching footfalls.

Noah's eyes narrowed immediately as his mind darkened with suspicion. As of yet, he still shared the floor with no one but himself, so what business would anyone have there? Of course, he had one idea, and it was proven correct as Geoff rounded the corner, whistling to himself and looking quite at home.

"Hey, man!" Geoff hailed cheerfully, before Noah had the chance to even open his mouth. "What's up?"

Noah just frowned, his expression darkening. "What are you doing here?" he asked coolly.

"Whoa, whoa, man!" Geoff laughed. "Why so cold, dude?"

"You know why," Noah retorted, crossing his arms.

But Geoff furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment and scratched his head. "No, dude, can't say I do."

"Let's think," Noah snapped. "My DS, the lies, the _closet_? It's not that hard to figure out." His eyes smoldering, he fixed Geoff with a furious gaze of the likes few people had ever seen before. "Leave me alone."

Geoff's eyes widened, and threw his hands up defensively as vehemence seeped from Noah's entire demeanor. "Whoa, man! You're _way_ overreacting. First of all, I did _not_ take your DS – you left in the dining hall. Just ask the chef, dude." **(A/N: Not Chef Hatchet, people! They have a much better chef at the Playa.) **"Secondly, why are you so upset about the closet? I mean, I'm just doing my job, man, and you got out anyways. What does it matter? And what lies are you talking about?" His point proven in his eyes, Geoff shrugged with a compromising smile. However, Noah didn't seem to agree.

"You said if _it _wasn't any of your business, you'd leave it alone!" he snapped. "And judging by your recent antics, you clearly lied!"

"Dude, what's "it"?"

Noah took a deep breath, struggling to control his anger. He couldn't deal with this just now; as his jamming device wasn't waterproof, he'd left it in his room while he'd gone down to the pool. Now, of course, he was unguarded and left bare before the entirety of the viewing population. If Geoff forced him to admit his dilemma on national TV, Noah would be forced to _seriously _damage him.

"_The issue_," Noah urged. "As in, 'don't tell a specific two people'? One of whom being a certain egotistical TV host?"

Finally, a look of dawning comprehension crossed Geoff's face. "Oh! You mean _that_, man." Fortunately, he had enough sense not to clarify, and Noah let out a heated sigh of relief.

"Yeah. That."

"But, man," Geoff replied. "I'm just trying to make you happy, dude."

"Well, don't," Noah retorted sharply. "This is my own problem, okay? If I'd known you were going to be like that, I wouldn't have told you."

Geoff blinked speechlessly for a moment. "Hey, don't be like that, man," he said finally with a diplomatic grin. "I mean, I would have gotten it out of you anyways. And besides, I'm doing this for Cody, too. He thinks you're cool."

Noah felt his heart jolt at this, and he gaped at Geoff incredulously. Could he seriously have . . ? "What?" he answered breathlessly, his eyes wide in surprise. "He said that?"

"Yeah!" Geoff insisted. "Well, sorta. He said that you're nicer, actually."

Of course. Noah kicked himself mentally; he should have known that Geoff's imperturbable optimism was whimsical and unreliable at best. How could he have let himself be so hopeful? It was only ever going to lead to heartbreak.

"See what I mean?" he muttered darkly. "There's no point."

But Geoff frowned at him, clearly disappointed in his staunch attitude. "Not at all, man! You have some serious chances."

"No, I don't!" Noah insisted. He glared determinedly at Geoff, who was, impressively, unshaken.

"Tell you what, man," Geoff answered finally. "Give me a week. If I don't succeed by then, I promise I'll leave it be, dude, and let you deal with it on your own. But until then, I'm allowed to do what I want to get you guys to hook up."

Noah considered this for a moment. He had no doubt that Geoff would eventually fail in the end, and his anticipation of such made it so that false hope and cruel let-downs were not the issue at hand. Either way, Noah knew he'd just be left with unrequited feelings, so agreeing to this proposition was just a way to appease Geoff and his rather idealistic views. But what harm could it do?

"You mean, you can do anything except telling Cody – or Chris?" Noah pressed.

"Yeah, dude," Geoff agreed, a triumphant smile returning to his face. "Original conditions still there."

"Alright," he consented finally, folding his arms. "One week, tops. But good luck getting me to listen to you; I'm more aware of your intentions."

Undaunted however, Geoff just grinned. "Cool, man," he said. "I think the chef said he put your DS in the laundry closet. You wanna go pick it up, dude?"

Noah lifted an eyebrow incredulously. "You expect me to fall for that? I just _said_ I'm more aware of your intentions."

And with that, Noah pushed the door open to his suite, leaving a bewildered Geoff standing blankly in the hall.

Geoff blinked, utterly bemused. He honestly had no ulterior motives to send Noah to the laundry closet, and he could not fathom, for the life of him, why Noah would believe otherwise. He wasn't so uncreative as to use the same room twice! Besides, his _actual _plan was something entirely different. Noah should be discovering it any moment now.

Right on cue, the door opened again and revealed a rather mystified Noah. "Do I even want to know?" he asked, holding out a plushie with a fairly remarkable resemblance to Cody, right down the gap-toothed smile.

Geoff bit back a snigger as he shrugged in response. "What can I say, dude?" he replied. "I got some connections who can sew. Besides, you never did get me to tell you what I was doing up here, man."

Rolling his eyes skeptically, Noah tossed the doll back over his shoulder and closed the door behind him before Geoff could make him take it back. As cute as it was, he had no doubt that it would later invoke some rather awkward questions. And in all honesty, he wasn't quite sure how he would answer them.

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**Okay, there was supposed to be a second half to this chapter, but I try to make it my policy not to have more than a four-page story. And if I did continue this chapter, it'd be six at the least. ^.^' Stay tuned, though, because that chapter will be up soon.**

**(BTW, does anyone else notice how the Playa episode seems to be so Noah-centric? I mean, like more than the rest of the series. It makes me happy, though. It's my favorite episode – mostly because of the Eskimo they dropped on Courtney's head. :3)**

**~ KiraKira-Kirimi**


	5. Le Pouvoir de Trois

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 5 ~ Le Pouvoir de Trois (The Power of Three)**

**A/N: **Wow, chapter 5 already? I can't believe how fast this story is going. If only I was this loyal to my original stories, I might actually have a novel right now! (Isn't everyone a wannabe novelist?) Anyways, thanks for all your awesome reviews, guys! I need this kind of support to keep going, so I owe my speed all to you. Still, constructive criticism is very much appreciated as well, so please don't hesitate to send me some!

**A Note on the Previous Exclusive Disclaimer: **My sister just wanted me to point out that she only helps me with my stories because if she doesn't, I don't let her use my laptop to make videos. Of course, I don't really believe her, because she A.) gets too animated about various parts in the story and B.) Only makes Total Drama Island videos. :3 Of course, that's my fault, because that's like the only thing I actually have downloaded on my computer.

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Cleaver: It cuts through the stench!

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The moon hung high in the sky, basking the beach with the soft, silver glow of its watchful eye, and at the shore, the water lapped peacefully at the soft sand, an image of perfect serenity. However, the night was anything but silent, and the creatures were anything but sleeping.

The forest that hugged the Playa was full of the symphony with sounds of nocturnal beasts and fauna, including the hoot of an owl, the howl of a coyote, and the occasional laughter of a plotting teen. Something was amiss, but the truth was shrouded in an impenetrable cloud of mystery.

That is, unless you are Geoff, who was, of course, the mastermind behind the plotting.

The story begins late in the afternoon, just two hours after Noah had confronted Geoff about his recent activities. Having been finally approved as Noah's self-appointed matchmaker, the party boy was ecstatic about his new, official responsibilities and was about to take on a new chapter in challenges, plots, and success.

But as he stood, poised for action, the ground-shaking truth fell upon Geoff in very much the same way a two-ton anvil may fall from a six-story building. As excitable and eager Geoff may be to play Cupid for the two awkward, yet loveable kings of books and videogames, he was stone-cold out of ideas. Frankly, he just wasn't very creative, and whereas he may have been able to manage a bit longer in another situation, Noah's new awareness to his antics posed a rather difficult obstacle.

Geoff pondered this issue, painstakingly picking it apart, examining the pieces, and then reconstructing it from scratch. He pored over every individual, metaphorical particle, and conducted the equivalent of chemical experiments in the unknowable realms of his mind, but in the end, he was left with a situation that looked suspiciously like the original problem. So, after hours of fruitless toil, Geoff finally came to a sole, simple conclusion.

It was time to bring in the new recruits.

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The first person Geoff added to his lovely band of matchmakers was none other than the gentle, sweet, love of his life, Bridgette. If asked why he had chosen her to work with him on this unusual, but nonetheless important, issue, he would have had an entire itinerary of reasons, such has her soft-spoken attitude, ability to maintain her silence, and her large heart. Of course, although these were good enough reasons, the main reason was less logical, and did not really need to be voiced. He just liked working with her, and didn't want to keep a secret from her – whether it was his or not.

It was at dinner that he spoke to her, and Geoff would be pleased to report that despite the fact that Noah was seated hardly eight feet away, they aroused no suspicions at all. Of course, Noah's nose was buried in his recently-recovered DS, so he probably wouldn't have noticed if Geoff had come in wearing a flamenco dress and did the salsa on the tabletops. But that was beside the point. And the author apologizes for that visual.

"Hey, Bridgette," Geoff began, after determining that Noah was most definitely out of it. "I need you to keep a secret for me, okay?"

Bridgette glanced up at him, a look of utter bemusement crossing her face. "I guess," she answered. "What is it?"

"Well," he said, his voice dropping suddenly to a hushed whisper. Bridgette leaned in closer as she strained to hear. "You know Gwen ditched Cody, right?"

"Only about hundred times. But, yeah."

Geoff glanced around nervously. But they were still inconspicuous, unnoticed by all – and more importantly, Noah. "Yeah dude, uh, Noah _likes_ him, though," he breathed finally.

"Noah likes Cody?" Bridgette gasped, her eyes widening. "You mean, he's--,"

"—gay, yeah," Geoff finished. "I was shocked, too, man. But I'm trying to get them together now, and I was wondering if you wanted to help, too. You're pretty awesome at that kind of thing."

"Aw, that's sweet," she answered, flushing slightly. "But I'm not_ that _good."

"Better than me, I bet."

Bridgette shrugged in consent at this comment, although she knew it would probably be quite difficult to be more obvious than she had during the haiku incident back at the island. Still, she knew Geoff well enough to know that he didn't do subtle very well. "Sure," she said finally. "I'm in."

"Awesome, man!" Geoff crowed excitedly, slapping her a high-five. "I knew you'd say yes."

Bridgette grinned at this, tickled by his enthusiasm. Geoff never let her forget why she'd fallen for him in the first place, whether he meant to or not. "So, how did you find out that Cody was gay, too?"

Immediately, Geoff's face fell. "Huh? I didn't."

"What?" Bridgette replied incredulously. "Then how do you know if he likes Noah? What if he's straight?"

Geoff frowned pensively as he pondered this. "I don't know, man. I guess I thought I'd just put them together and see if he started liking Noah or something." He shrugged in nonchalance, but his face was rapidly paling as the weight of what she was saying began to sink in. "Do you mean he might not _ever _like Noah?" he answered in a hushed whisper.

"Well, we don't know," Bridgette clarified, her expression worried. "But if he doesn't, it'd just break Noah's heart really badly."

"Aw, dude, you're right!" Geoff exclaimed in despair. He slapped a hand to his forehead, looking quite disconsolate. "Man, what should I do?"

Bridgette did not reply immediately and set down her veggie burger as she deliberated over this issue. Several moments passed in a tense silence, yet still, barely two tables over, Noah remained immersed in his videogames, oblivious to the planning that was occurring right beside him.

Suddenly, Bridgette brightened, looking very much like a child who'd just won the spelling bee. "I know!" she proclaimed. "Let's ask LeShawna!"

"LeShawna?" Geoff echoed, puzzled.

"Yeah, she's pretty good at this kind of stuff," Bridgette explained. "At least, I think she would be. She has the right attitude."

"Aw, man, you're right!" Geoff said again, but this time in joviality, and the excitement in his eyes mirrored Bridgette's. "Why didn't I think of that before?"

Bridgette laughed lightly under her breath, patting Geoff comfortingly on the shoulder. "She only arrived last night," she replied. "You wouldn't have been able to ask her any sooner."

But it seemed he wasn't dejected in the least as Geoff grinned euphorically in response. "Come on, dude! Let's go ask her!" he crowed, leaping excitedly from his chair. And, still somehow unnoticed by Noah, the two vanished from the dining hall, struggling to suppress their overflowing excitement.

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"Yup, that boy is most definitely some kind of bisexual," LeShawna was saying now as the moon hung high over their heads.

Upon finding LeShawna enjoying her dinner in the sweet, night air at the pool, Geoff had proceeded immediately to describing their situation. However, the moment the word 'secret' slipped from his lips, she bid him to silence and inquired as to if Chris should find out. When he deemed otherwise, LeShawna had proposed to meet the two in the forest later that night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, and out of the wide range of Chris' eyes and ears.

How was it that it seemed everyone else knew about the cameras?

But it was now that he found himself seated upon a log, deep in shadows of the Canadian forest and batting ineffectually at the murderous mosquitoes that ceaselessly attempted to suck him dry. Bridgette seated beside him, the two listened eagerly to the wisdom of LeShawna's matchmaking expertise. Apparently, they'd been completely right in believing that she'd be good at this sort of thing; she proudly boasted the successful matching of eight of her close friends, and seemed to take the new information of Noah's crush completely in her stride.

"Cody's bisexual?" Bridgette echoed. "How do you know?"

LeShawna grinned, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of strange malevolence and excitement. "Oh, Shawnie just knows this kind of thing."

Well, that was proof enough for Geoff; hard facts were overrated. "Awesome, man!" he said. "So there's definitely hope?"

"Heck, yeah!" LeShawna rejoined with a smirk. "If that ain't compatible, I don't know what is."

The three exchanged excited glances, each luxuriating in their own imagination of pairing up the two boys. **(Not perverted, guys, not perverted. T.T)** A baited silence fell momentarily, broken only by the sudden rustle of the wind.

"So, what should we do?" Bridgette inquired finally, pulling them out of their thoughts.

LeShawna smiled confidently. "That's no problem. Here's my plan . . ."

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**I was so worried last night; when I brought my USB flash drive home, everything I'd done at school – 3 pages – wasn't there! I really hoped that I hadn't lost it. Thank goodness, though, because it was still idling its time on the school computers while I freaked out. I still don't know what I did. Computers are not my forté. ^.^**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	6. Pourquoi Moi?

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 6 ~ Pourqu****oi moi? (Why me?)**

**A/N: **Thank you for your many wonderful reviews! 'Tis them that gives me the drive to finish this story, so give yourselves a pat on the back. ^.- Unfortunately, I've just been assigned my major term paper for my history class, so I may slow down while I work on that. Honors classes are the bane of my life. :P (And if anyone feels like helping, I'm comparing North and South Korea in terms of their economy, modern culture, and foreign relations. Kidding!)

**Special Thank-You's: **

Craneeum** - **for graciously correcting the grammar on the title of Chapter two. Pardon my [improper] French. :3

DaBassistLaura178 - for patiently helping me figure out the special formatting on DeviantArt. Thank you all!

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I wonder if that's how sharks feel?

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Noah frowned, glancing around uncomfortably as he dangled his feet in the cool waters. He knew there was something fishy going on, judging by the strange atmosphere hanging over the pool deck, and he wasn't referring to the trout that Izzy was proudly displaying as a necklace that day. Although that was fishy, definitely fishy.

But no, there was something else in the air, something he couldn't quite place. It was almost like - call him paranoid, but it was almost like someone was watching him, in a strange, eager anticipation.

Peering up from his book, Noah glanced at Geoff suspiciously. However, Geoff was ostensibly innocent this time, seeing as he was currently quite enjoying himself, entwined around Bridgette as he was. But the heavy atmosphere persisted, and Noah felt himself breaking out in a nervous sweat.

He could hardly stand the suspense. What sort of dramatic irony was malevolently stirring? His sixth sense tugged on his awareness incessantly, vexingly reminding him of his mother back home as he struggled to return the focus to the book on hand. Of course, he knew it would be nothing important, considering that Geoff was only one who could potentially do anything worth his interest – and wariness. And as Geoff was not involved, Noah concluded that he was just being silly, and that this constant evasion of matchmaking tactics was becoming rather detrimental to his mental health.

Of course, Noah was entirely off, but he'd soon discover that for himself.

Just then, his suspicions spiked as someone called out his name with an excited alacrity he knew only too well. Glaring at Geoff again with mistrust, Noah was bewildered to find that he seemed to still be entirely oblivious to the strange happenings Noah was sure were to be occurring quite soon. But if Geoff wasn't involved, why was Cody approaching him?

Finally, Noah sighed and acknowledged Cody's presence by meeting his gaze and cocking an eyebrow inquisitively. "What?" he answered, somehow managing to interweave a bored tone into his voice despite the way his nerves were making his heart hammer incessantly in his chest.

"Is it true that you have the new Flame Insignia game?" Cody inquired eagerly, his 'cool' stride contradicted by the animated friendliness in his eyes. **(A/N: Flame Insignia is not a real game – as far as I know – but bonus points to whoever can figure out what game it really is!)**

Noah frowned, his eyebrow furrowing somewhat in surprise. "I do," he replied slowly. How had Cody known? Never once did Noah ever flaunt ownership of any of his games; he knew better of such on an island of twenty-two considerably 'cooler' teens. Well, give or take a few kids. "Why?"

Immediately, Cody brightened. Proudly displaying a much-loved DS Lite with a cracked screen, scratched finish, and hinges that were just barely hanging onto dear life, he proclaimed abashedly: "I can't get past chapter sixteen! Could you help me?"

Noah couldn't believe his ears. Were his exceptional skills as a gamer actually being requested – and not by a Underground Alliance member he'd never actually met offline? He dared not trust so; it was an impossible dream he had long given up for lost. "I'm sorry," he answered. "What did you say?"

"I'm stuck," Cody repeated graciously, somehow unperturbed. "Do you know how to get by it?"

It seemed he'd truly heard correctly. Glancing over at Geoff, Noah frowned warily; he didn't believe for one moment that the party boy was as innocent as he appeared to be. "I suppose," he answered finally, and held his hand out for the console.

"I keep killing Jason before I can recruit him," Cody explained as he passed it to him. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Who are you using to approach him?"

"Russ," he replied, worrying his lower lip slightly in pensive concern. "He's only at level twelve, so he shouldn't be able to kill him right away."

Noah struggled to repress a blush as Cody fixed with an intent, inquisitive look, but somehow, Cody remained oblivious to the discomfort he was causing. With a small cough to mask his uneasiness, Noah pulled up Cody's game stats and scanned Russ' character.

And there, practically screaming out to Noah like a banshee, was the problem that was beleaguering Cody.

Raising an eyebrow, Noah showed the screen to Cody and pointed curtly at a number. "Yes, but by the time he reaches Jason, he will have reached level fourteen."

"Seriously?" Cody replied, his eyes wide in obvious surprise. "How do you know?"

"He only needs about five experience points to level up to thirteen, and as far as I can see, it's impossible for him to get into any less than nine fights before reaching Jason. Of course, each battle offers thirty experience points, so he will undoubtedly have leveled up _again_ by the end. And, as each level up increases his hitpoints by ten percent, he will be more than strong enough to annihilate Jason."

Cody blinked at him, utterly bemused. "You did all that in your head?" he gaped.

Noah recoiled like a wounded dog. He felt as if he'd been slapped. His face burning with a mixture of shame and frustration, Noah found it was near-impossible to hold his gaze steady. Why was he so incapable of being anything but an aloof know-it-all? Why did he always have to end up offending someone else with his callous remarks?

But then Cody's eyes met his, and Noah felt his heart skip a beat. There was nothing hurt or accusatory in Cody's expression; on the contrary, it shone with an awe and admiration that that left Noah as speechless as stone – an extraordinarily red stone, that is.

"That's amazing," Cody remarked enthusiastically. "So, what should I do?"

For a moment, Noah struggled to reclaim his voice as Cody watched on in eager anticipation. "Have – have you tried Marissa?" he asked finally.

With an inquisitive expression, Cody shook his head. "I don't have any weapons for her," he explained. "She's a Pegasus Knight **(A/N: I'm tired of coming up with new names for everything now . . .)**, and I'm out of lances."

"You're out of lances?" Noah echoed incredulously, his eyebrow rising to record-breaking heights. "Haven't you heard of the 'control-enemy glitch'?"

Judging by Cody's blank expression, Noah probably could have been speaking Greek.

Rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh, Noah explained: "It's a glitch that allows you to, well, control the enemy, and, more importantly, take their weapons. It's time-consuming but useful."

"Seriously?" Cody answered, his eyes bright. "What is it?" He leaned closer to get a better look at the screen, oblivious to the way Noah's breath hitched in his throat.

Noah swallowed, struggling not to betray the way Cody's close proximity was rattling him, but he found that even when he focused exclusively on the DS, he still could not chase the blush from his face. "You can't do it all the time," he said finally, astounded that he could still string together complete sentences. "Only on PWASE squares. You know, Places Which Affect Something Else – like here . . ."

As Noah explained the glitch, Cody watched intently in very much the same way a child watches their mother while she explains the best way to earn candy. Once or twice, Noah glanced up to meet his eyes, but his face colored so fast that he forced himself to look down again before Cody could even be sure that he looked up in the first place.

After the two had recovered enough lances for Marissa to use, Noah handed the console back to Cody and urged him to try again. Three times, Cody lost characters, and had to restart, but with Noah's encouragement, he persisted.

Finally, Cody's eyes lit up in excitement. Waving the DS before Noah, he proudly displayed the opening sequence of Chapter 17. "I did it!" he crowed, his expression shining in delight.

Noah could not bite back his sympathetic smile. His heart still pounded incessantly in his chest, but now it was more in a post-adrenaline rush than his previous nerves. He was admittedly rather impressed with Cody's progress; the average gamer took about twice as long to crack that chapter, glitch or no glitch. But Cody had caught on quickly, and despite the relief from nerves, Noah was almost sorry to see him go.

But as if Cody had read his mind, he suddenly turned and inquired: "Hey, you want to come over to my suite after dinner tonight? We can play PlayStation or something."

Noah blinked, taken aback. "You brought your PlayStation?" he answered.

"No," Cody replied, looking bewildered. "It came with my suite. Do you not have one?"

"I don't," Noah confirmed. His eyes narrowed as his suspicions spiked once more. It couldn't be Geoff; the PlayStation had never been there, even before his 'issue' had slipped. But then, why?

"Weird," Cody said, echoing Noah's thoughts. "Maybe the producers thought that since you were always reading, you wouldn't like videogames."

Noah rolled his eyes, regarding Cody sardonically. "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Like I didn't tell them my reason for trying out for Total Drama Island was to apply my videogaming skills to reality." Then he bit his tongue furiously, realizing how rudely he'd come off. Why couldn't he refrain from sarcasm?

But Cody didn't seem to have noticed as he replied: "Well, then maybe they're trying to bother you. But they shouldn't, not at the Playa."

"They still videotape us."

"Good point," Cody remarked, regarding Noah's comment with an appreciative nod. "But you never answered: wanna come over?"

Noah shrugged. "Sure," he replied. "I guess."

Cody's expression brightened as an excited grin spread across his face. "Great!" he exclaimed. "See you there, then!" And with that, he waved, striding back into the air-conditioned indoors of the Playa.

It was then that it struck Noah. Cody had just invited him over. He had accepted. _He was visiting Cody in his room alone._ Lifting his eyes to the sky in utter despair and self-frustration, Noah cursed himself inwardly. Where had the rational part of his brain gone? And why hadn't it at least left a note saying when it would be back? It seemed Geoff didn't even have to do anything anymore to humiliate him; he just did it himself.

Oh, God help him. And he was an atheist.

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**Sorry it took me so long to update. I've had a killer writer's block lately – hence why this chapter is so bad. And the characters are so OOC . . . darn. I hope the next one will be better. **

**Oh, and thanks to my dear friend, Neil, who supplied me with all videogaming information used in this chapter. And in case you haven't figured it out yet, 'Flame Insignia' is 'Fire Emblem' – specifically the Sacred Stones version. And the control enemy glitch really works. :) **

**Thanks for reading!**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	7. Définitions

**Secrets of a Matchmaker **

**Chapter 7 ~ Définitions (Definitions)**

**A/N: **Hello again, and welcome to Chapter 7 of Secrets of a Matchmaker! Before we begin, I just want to say that I've got a lot of comments about Noah visiting Cody's room. Sorry to break your bubble, guys, but there's not going to be anything particularly inappropriate. Kirimi apologizes. ^.^' But I hope you enjoy anyways!

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Looks safe enough!

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Noah couldn't remember having ever been so nervous before in his life. His chest seemed to ache from his heart's relentless pounding, and he wished desperately that the bottom of his stomach would soon reattach itself. Of course, like anyone who has ever suffered from a major crush would have been able to assure him, he would be blessed with no such luck.

And of course, as it was Noah, the prime awkward lovebird in our story, the author couldn't just let his discomfort rest as it was.

The sun had long set in the distance, and as the stars sparkled across lake, rippling like underwater diamonds, the dining room began to buzz with the excited chatter of eighteen hungry teens. Well, seventeen hungry teens, actually.

Noah poked unenthusiastically at the five-star dinner before him, unable to quiet his churning innards for any length of time. He just couldn't shake the looming thoughts of the quickly-approaching evening. What _had _he been thinking? In his situation, it was in everyone's best interests for him to stay as far away from Cody as possible. And visiting Cody in his suite was _not _staying away from him!

Expectedly enough, Noah had tried to chicken out several times, but upon finding no ways to tactfully and convincingly turn Cody down, he had long since resigned himself to a night of tension, nerves, and humiliation. Sounded like fun, eh?

Just then, of course, the situation morphed into and even darker and more ominous beast with the arrival of a certain, loveable matchmaker.

Geoff dropped himself into the seat beside Noah, grinning like a maniac. Noah's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but before he could even open his mouth to inquire as to what he was up to, Geoff laughed and slapped him on the back. "Cody told me about your date tonight!" he crowed. "Congratulations, man!"

"It's not a date!" Noah snapped back brusquely, his face coloring rapidly.

Geoff just smiled knowingly in response as he eyed Noah with a disbelieving gaze. "Of course not, bra."

"I said, it's not a date!"

Geoff laughed, leaning back in his chair placidly "I didn't say anything, man!"

Noah's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms in frustration. "It was implied," he retorted.

"Was it?" Geoff's eyebrows rose suggestively. "But come on, man, cheer up! It's one step closer, isn't it?"

"This is stupid," Noah replied, looking away pointedly.

"I know," Geoff agreed with mock sympathy. "Denial bites, dude."

He glowered. "That's not what I meant."

"It was implied."

"Shut it."

Geoff grinned broadly, looking rather pleased with himself, but he graciously obliged. Propping his feet up on the table (appallingly close to Noah's meal), he met Noah's cold glare steadily with his own, staunch smile.

"Fine," he replied finally. "But seriously, man, how did you swing it?"

"What do you mean?" Noah answered warily. By this point, he was almost certain that Geoff's main goal in life was to get under his skin – a feat that he was succeeding in remarkably well.

"I mean, how did you make friends with him so fast?" Geoff's eyes danced with a curiosity that seemed genuine, but the excited sparkle did little to alleviate Noah's suspicions.

He frowned. "Don't act like you didn't have anything to do with it."

"But I didn't, dude."

"Oh, yeah?" Noah retorted curtly, frustration smoldering at his composure. "Then who told Cody I had Flame Insignia VII?"

Geoff looked well and utterly bemused, but his eager grin never faltered as he stood strong under Noah's blazing glare. "Flame who-the-what-now?"

"My _videogame_," Noah explained impatiently. "How did he know about that?"

Geoff's eyes lit up with sudden comprehension, and he laughed, much to Noah's obvious annoyance. "Oh, that must have been LeShawna, dude! She said she knew of a way to get you two to chat."

Noah's mind jarred to halt. "Le-LeShawna? You _told_ her?!"

"Of course, man," Geoff replied, looking quite surprised, but amused at the same time. "You said I could tell anyone but Cody and Chris."

"I did not!"

"Sure you did," he answered, his eyebrows rising. "You said: 'I don't care who knows, as long as that one person does _not._'"

Noah clenched his teeth in aggravation. Geoff was right; he had said that. "So?" he blustered finally. "That doesn't mean you can tell everyone."

"Actually, it was sort of implied."

"Stop with the 'implied', already!" Noah snapped furiously.

"Alright, man!" Geoff replied hastily, holding his hands up to ward off a barrage of rage. "If it makes you feel any better, dude, I only told her and Bridgette."

Noah's eyes narrowed, but he calmed submissively. "Really? No one else?"

"No one," Geoff confirmed. "I promise, bra."

"Fine." Noah took a deep breath, releasing his chest from the iron grip of mind-numbing nerves. "Just – don't tell anyone else, okay?"

"Sure, dude."

Noah let out a relieved sigh, mindlessly taking a bite of his risotto. He hated this anxiety with a passion, and he reflected longingly on the days when he was unperturbed by anything life could throw at him. But now, he could actually kind of understand why one of his sisters had been hiding from her crush for six months. He made a mental note to apologize to her later.

Then Geoff continued, almost making Noah choke on his food. "Well, in return, can I tell Cody you're gay?"

"What?" Noah cried. "No, of course not! That'd be like telling him right out that I liked him!"

"Not necessarily, dude," Geoff defended hastily, with a compromising smile. "It's just that, when he starts liking you, he needs to know he has a chance, right?"

"'If'," Noah corrected curtly. "Not 'when', 'if'. And he won't."

"But you don't know that," he insisted.

Noah pursed his lips, clearly aggravated by Geoff's staunch optimism and self-righteousness. "Yes, I do," he replied with forced calm. "So you can't tell him. And will you please leave me alone now?"

"Pri-ckly, dude!" Geoff remarked jokingly. "Buck up, bra; you gotta be ready for your date tonight."

"I said --!"

"—it's not a date. Yeah, we know," Geoff finished. He flashed Noah a mischievous grin as he stood. "But we also know what you really want it to be, man."

Noah spluttered speechlessly, his face burning. But, seemingly unmindful of Noah's fury, Geoff just tossed him a cheery wave and strode off to join Bridgette at her table. Noah glared wrathfully at his retreating back, but could find no words to throw at him.

Feeling rather sorry for himself, Noah finally turned back to his food. However, he discovered that now he somehow had even less of an appetite than before.

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**I swear, I did not mean to make this an entire chapter! I expected that this would just be an opening to the rest, but it seemed to elongate out of control. You'll see Noah and Cody in the room together next chapter, I promise. **

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	8. Faire Confiance á la Bête

**Secrets of a Matchmaker **

**Chapter 8 ~ ****Faire Confiance á la Bête (To Trust the Beast)**

**A/N: ** I'm so sorry about splitting this chapter the way I did! I will try not to do it in the future, I promise. ^.^' Anyways, here's the 'date' chapter. Special thank you to my sister again, because she planned like half of this chapter. I hope you like!

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I hate to be predictable and complain on the first day, but I think mine just moved.

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Although he ate about the equivalent of a bird's rations throughout the entire dinner, Noah procrastinated leaving the dining hall until the very last moment possible. The last thing he wanted to do was to return to his room and be left with nothing but his racing thoughts and still-mounting anxiety. However, it seemed that even in the din of the dining room, Noah's legendary skills of inattention were working against him for once. He just couldn't stop thinking about the coming evening with Cody. Of course, his nerves had increased tenfold since the sun had first set – a fact he blamed entirely on Geoff.

Now, however, if he procrastinated any longer, he would be considerably more than fashionably late. With a reluctant sigh, Noah stood, still a little stiff from how long he'd been sitting there unmovingly.

But as he began to head out of the dining hall, Noah suddenly stiffened. He wasn't alone. From behind him sounded the ominous thuds of another's footfalls, instilling in him a threatening sense of déjà vu.

Noah spun on the spot. Then his eyes narrowed darkly as his gaze fell upon the culprit: Bridgette, who looked a little too distracted to be innocent.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped suddenly, and she glanced up in seemingly-genuine surprise.

"Oh, hi, Noah," she said finally, dismissing his rather brusque tone. "I guess we both finished dinner late, didn't we?"

She sounded earnest, but Noah knew of her newfound position in the trio of matchmakers. His frown darkened; he wasn't about to let his caution falter for even a fraction of a second, no matter how blameless she may seem. "Geoff left a while ago," he stated suspiciously.

"Yeah," she agreed. "But I like to take my time. My mom always taught me it was good to relax when you eat. Besides, I wanted to talk to you."

_That _was what he had been expecting. Deciding instantaneously that there was no point to any longer reward with her his attention, Noah turned on his heel and strode away. For goodness' sake, why was it so physically impossible for them to leave him alone for even five minutes?

Then Bridgette's eyes widened as the connotation of her statement dawned on her. "Oh, Noah, wait!" she cried out hastily. "That's not what I meant!"

"Well, _excuse me_ if I don't completely believe you," he retorted, not even turning to face her.

Bridgette fell still suddenly, utterly bemused. "What did I do?" she asked.

Immediately, Noah whipped around to give her the most incredulous, withering glare that has ever been directed at any living being in the history of mankind. However, Bridgette was left confounded, for he said nothing to explain his intense mistrust. If he'd learned anything from the past seven chapters, it was that he was almost always better off when he kept his mouth shut.

"Honestly," Bridgette insisted finally, realizing he was not going to reply. "Can I just talk to you – as friends?"

Friends, Noah reflected darkly. That was laughable. They hadn't even been on the same _team_ back on the island, yet now she was calling him her friend and inviting him to open conversation? He didn't buy it in the least. Of course, Noah bit his tongue, and instead directed his attentions to the elevator call button.

But Bridgette seemed to have taken his silence as consent, continuing: "I know Geoff might have come off a bit too strong, but he's just really excited about all this. I told him to back off a little, and give you some room."

Noah was listening now.

"It's sort of like how when you approach a dog too fast, and the dog runs away," she said, just as the doors slid open. "Not that you're a dog or anything."

Noah rolled his eyes at her near-poetry and stepped in, Bridgette following like a shadow. "What floor?" he asked sharply.

Bridgette blinked, taken aback by his sudden return to verbalization. But she quickly recovered and replied: "Three, please." As he obliged, she pressed her hands together in her sweatshirt pocket with deep satisfaction, feeling a small smile touch her lips. Perhaps Noah was rather cold, and maybe he was unfriendly at times, but Bridgette believed that anyone capable of love was not a bad person. And by every passing moment she spent talking to him, Noah was unwittingly solidifying her philosophy. It was amusing, in a way.

"So, is that all you wanted to talk to me about?" Noah asked suddenly, drawing her out of her thoughts.

"What?" Bridgette replied, momentarily mystified. "Oh, no. I also wanted to say good luck."

Noah raised an eyebrow in response as he glanced at her. "'Good luck'?" he echoed.

"I know you're really nervous about tonight," she explained. "But you'll do fine. Just act natural."

"Oh," Noah answered, feeling a little uncomfortable under her gentle, understanding gaze. Perhaps he had judged her too quickly; perhaps she was really less underhanded than Geoff in the matchmaking business. The thought made Noah feel somewhat guilty, and he turned away to hide his unease. "Thanks."

"No problem. Are you going there now?"

"Yeah."

"Cool," she replied, as elevator _dinged_, sounding their arrival. The doors slid open. "Bye!" Bridgette called with a wave.

Suddenly, she stumbled. With a small of grunt of surprise, she fell against Noah, who, despite his unawares, somehow managed to heft her back to her feet. And before she could trip again, he discreetly skirted away from the disaster area, nursing a slightly-sore wrist. Seeing this, in much the same way that any klutz is left abashed after so quick a sequence of events, Bridgette flushed faintly. "Well, good luck," she said finally, disguising her discomfort with a small, inaudible cough. "Bye."

"Bye," Noah replied.

Then the doors slid shut behind her, leaving Noah quite alone with nothing but the mind-numbing melody of the elevator music to abate his remounting nerves. He glared at his wrist. It had twisted strangely when he'd caught Bridgette, and now it was stinging somewhat. It seemed that, even inadvertently, the matchmakers were always getting in the way.

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Cody glanced up at the clock again for about the hundredth time that minute, jiggling his leg with in a mixture of excitement and impatience. Noah was late.

Admittedly, Cody had been rather relieved to have a few extra minutes to finish tidying his suite, as the carpeting hadn't seen the light of day since he had first arrived at the Playa. That would have been embarrassing, he thought, especially as Noah seemed to be one of those neat freaks. Cody didn't want to start their blossoming friendship off on the wrong foot, and as a result, he cleaned his room for the very first time. After all, he had no way of knowing how the author scoffed at the mere notion that their friendship could ever start off badly.

But now, his room relatively spotless, he was ambivalently bored and energized as he waited for Noah to arrive.

The knock sounded at exactly forty-two seconds past nine thirty-five.

As if shot from a cannon, Cody leapt from his bed with as much alacrity as if he were a child on Christmas Day. As he swung the door open, he met Noah's bored gaze with a wide grin, and although he didn't notice it, a corner of Noah's lips twitched in response.

"Hey, Noah! Come in! What's up?"

Noah shrugged as he stepped in, his hands in his pockets. "Same mojo as whatever happens at this place. You?"

"Same, I guess." Cody swung the door shut behind him, leading the way into the rest of the suite. "You're a little late," he commented suddenly.

At this, Noah's eyebrows rose slightly. "By five minutes?"

"And forty-two seconds . . . hey, I was bored!" Cody explained hastily, spotting the incredulous look Noah was giving him.

"I'll be earlier next time, then, by exactly – what was it? Five minutes, forty-four seconds?"

"Forty-two."

"Forty-two seconds, then."

"It doesn't really matter," Cody replied, looking a little sheepish. "I was just bored."

"Well, we don't want you to be bored, do we?" Noah answered, with the ever-so-faint ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

Cody grinned. Noah _did _have a sense of humor, apparently. Then their eyes met, and Cody could not help widening his grin. There was just something in his expression, no, his demeanor, that Cody couldn't quite name, but it made him feel elated. It was indescribable, and he immediately knew that there was no chance that they weren't going to be friends.

"Hey!" he suddenly chimed excitedly.

Noah glanced up with an inquiring gaze, his eyebrows rising again. "What?"

"I went down to the lobby today, and guess what they gave me?"

"No idea."

Cody's smile widened, and his eyes sparkled in the way that only a gamer's can when in the face of the legendary . . . "Brawl."

Noah's jaw fell open in shock, and had he been carrying his book, he would have dropped it. "Brawl?" he echoed. "No way."

Cody grinned. "Yes, way."

Noah held up his hands in utter disbelief. "Seriously?" he said. "Okay, okay, what's the catch?" However, he looked just as animated as Cody did. As much as he may mistrust the producers and their intentions, his love for Brawl was in his DNA. "Did they not give you a Wii?"

"No," Cody assured him. "They gave me the Wii." He looked smug, his excitement beginning to bubble over. "But come on - what are we waiting for? Let's hook this baby up!"

"I second that," Noah answered as eagerly as he ever did, ushering to flip on the television.

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Four rounds and a half-hour later, Cody was losing, four to zero. Yes, zip. Nada. But he wasn't done yet. No, he was _Cody_, and it would take a lot more than that to leave him in the dust. His eyes narrowed in intense concentration, he prepared to unleash the greatest of all hidden tricks.

"You're picking Kirby?" Noah said, incredulous. "_Seriously?_ Didn't you get the memo? They killed his jump in this game. He's completely useless."

Cody fixed him with a smug stare, and Noah couldn't help but to quickly double-check that it _was_ Brawl that they'd changed Kirby. But no; he had the game right. So, what could Cody be planning?

But then, five minutes later, Noah was staring open-mouthed at a game screen that proudly displayed the winner of round five as none other than the supposedly-useless . . . Kirby.

"Fluke," he muttered finally, when he had reattached the bottom of his jaw.

Cody grinned, strangely amused by Noah's irritable pout. Clearly, he wasn't used to losing. "Really?" Cody replied. "Want another go?"

"You're on."

But after three more rounds with the exact same outcome, Noah had to admit that perhaps Cody really did have the right idea about something. As Kirby danced self-righteously across the screen, Noah crossed his arms with a sulky huff.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "Are you using a cheat?"

"Nope!" Cody crowed, looking rather smug. "Pure, fair-and-square strategy. I know Kirby like the back of my hand."

Noah glared at him darkly. "Cheat."

"Sore loser," Cody shot back teasingly, and Noah looked away, a soft blush painting his features.

"So?" he answered finally, but there was still a definite sullen tone in his voice. "I bet you couldn't beat me in Kosmic Kaos – what?"

Cody was staring at him, open-mouthed. "You play Kosmic Kaos?" he gaped.

"Yeah."

Eyes wide in amazement, Cody stared at Noah in utter shock for a moment, and then laughed. "Seriously? I thought I was the only one!"

Now it was Noah's turn to stare. "You play, too?"

"Heck, yes! And I got to level twelve in a month!"

At this, Noah smirked, replying: "I beat you, then. _I _got to level _twenty_ in two weeks."

"Man!" Cody whined, but his eyes were shining with the competition. "Well, I fought Kranthor, and managed to survive for an entire five minutes."

"You met _the_ Kranthor?!" Noah gawked. "I hate you now."

Their eyes met, and sparks flew as their glares held steadily. Several heated moments passed in tense silence, both staunchly refusing to give in. Cody narrowed his eyes in an attempt to focus his glower, and Noah responded by stalwartly crossing his arms, a small smirk twitching in his expression.

Then they burst out laughing, all mock rivalry forgotten.

"Wow," Noah said finally, when he managed to catch his breath. "I can't believe you survived Kranthor. That's awesome!"

"For five minutes," Cody corrected, still struggling to smother his laughter. "I bet you would have lasted longer. I mean, you got to level twenty in two weeks! That's way more impressive."

"Naw. That's only 'cause my chemistry teacher let me play during class when I finished my research project three months early."

"He did? Lucky!"

"No kidding. He actually had us make bottle rockets and shoot them at him once – and he was going to let us make fireworks, but the school wouldn't let him . . ."

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The next several hours passed much faster than what should ever be considered legal by the laws of physics, and before they knew it, they were nodding off over their controllers. And when Cody had almost fallen off the couch from exhaustion, Noah decided that it was time to return to his room.

"Do you really have to g-go . . . ?" Cody muttered, struggling, and failing to fight off a head-splitting yawn. He rubbed his eyes, forcing them open.

"Yeah," Noah replied, just as groggily. "See you tomorrow, 'kay?"

"'Kay." Cody answered, but he looked rueful. He was surprisingly sorry to see Noah go, but he reminded himself that they still had every day of the next week and a half for videogames – and next time, they could even have a slumber(less) party. "See ya."

"Night."

The next day, Cody wouldn't remember if he'd even stayed awake long enough to watch the door close.

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Noah stumbled blearily down the hall, his feet dragging on the carpet. In his dazed state, he almost didn't notice the little 'visitor' hanging outside his door. But then his eyes narrowed darkly as his foot bumped against the Cody plushie, knocking it over.

"Stupid Geoff," he muttered, although it sounded more like an incomprehensible mumble. With an exasperated sigh, he hefted it up and met its beady-eyed grin with a firm glare. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

Great, now he was talking to inanimate objects. He really needed to get some sleep.

Deciding that he would have to wait until the morning to make Geoff take it back, Noah tucked the plushie under his arm as he dug in his pocket for his room key. Suddenly, he fell still.

The room key was gone.

Noah's mind suddenly jolted, as if shocked with two hundred volts of electricity. Where had it gone? He'd had it when he'd gone to dinner, he was sure of that. Could he have dropped it somewhere? No, his pockets were too deep. So, how? Where? _Who?_ Then, his eyes narrowed, as a dark look of dawning comprehension crossed his face.

Bridgette.

She had fallen against him in the elevator, seemingly unintentionally. But now that he thought about it, it was a little too perfect, a little too controlled. And there had been a strange, exuberant look on her face, which he'd dismissed at the time as absurd. He'd trusted her, and she'd pick-pocketed him.

Why were these matchmakers all the same?

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"No," Geoff said, grinning bravely in the face of Noah's most blood-curdling glare. "You can't sleep here." His hair was a mess, and his eyes were red with sleep, but he seemed to be enjoying himself as Noah practically begged him to let him stay the night.

"And why not?" Noah demanded, obviously _not_ be enjoying himself as he bargained for lodgings with a delusional matchmaker at three in the morning.

"Well, obviously, the reason we took your room key was so that you'd room with _Cody_," Geoff pointed out.

"So?"

"It'd kind of ruin the whole thing if I let you stay here."

Noah glowered, heroically suppressing a yawn. "I am _not_ staying with Cody."

"Who else are you going to stay with?"

"I don't care," he retorted. "Just not Cody."

Geoff smiled, looking as satisfied as a kitten with a bowl of cream between its paws. "Suit yourself."

"I will," Noah snapped. He turned, as if to stride away, but then suddenly stopped in his tracks and fixed Geoff with a cold glare once more. "And keep this away from my room, please," he added curtly, tossing the plushie at him. "The cameras will see it."

"Then, if I got rid of the cameras, would you still mind?" Geoff teased, catching it.

"No comment."

Geoff couldn't suppress his laughter at that point, and Noah had long vanished from sight before he could finally rein it back in to a dull chuckle.

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Noah paced the hallways, still fuming. Stupid Geoff. Why couldn't the guy give him a break? It was always either him or one of his new minions getting in the way and making his life miserable, no matter what he did to avoid it. Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut back then? If he had, none of this would have happened, and he would be left to pine over Cody in the sweet bitterness of his own solitude.

When all of this was over, he should take a vow of silence.

Unfortunately, he still had the immediate issue at hand to deal with just then. Geoff had been quite right in hinting that he had no one else to stay with. Noah didn't have many friends at the Playa, and although he knew that say, Trent, wouldn't deny him, it would have be extremely awkward to stay the night – with or without the alternative orientation. Obviously, Geoff had known that.

Still, Noah point-blank refused to stay with Cody. He would stay up all night, wandering the Playa, before he would ever succumb and let Geoff win. There was not one chance in a million, not one needle in the haystack, that he might actually go back to Cody and ask to stay. No matter how tired he got, he was not going to. Ever. And he was not protesting too much. He was just being firm. Really. And Noah implores the reader to stop giving him that look.

But just then, something caught his eye. Falling dead in his tracks, Noah stared at what was the most obvious answer to his predicament. Who said he needed a room? This worked just as well, and the solution was so _simple_, he was furious at himself for not realizing it before.

Almost crying in utter relief, Noah stumbled to the miracle of the hall-side couch and collapsed upon it. He fell asleep immediately.

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**I'm finally done with this chapter, and oh my god, it's almost ten pages! ^.^' Please, don't get used to it. Chapter nine will be back to the usual four. **

**I just also should mention that I do **_**not **_**own Brawl. It is property of Nintendo - I think. I don't play many videogames. XD I also do not own Kosmic Kaos, but as far as I know, it – and Kranthor - are not based on real videogames/people. They are purely from the imagination of our dear friends at FreshTV. **

**And this chapter didn't turn out as well as I'd have liked. :( Oh, well. I'll try not to have so many time breaks next time!**

**~ KiraKira-Kirimi **


	9. Un Amour du Feu

**Secrets of a Matchmaker **

**Chapter 9 ~ Un Amour du Feu (A Love of Fire)**

**A/N: **I saw the special episode of TDI the other day, and although I loved it, it kind of messed with my plotline with this story. And I'm rather lazy, so let's just pretend it never happened, 'kay? Except for Noah's . . . femininity. That most definitely happened. :3

**Note: **For those not keeping track, this is now day two after the "one-week" agreement between Noah and Geoff. Let's all buy foam fingers and cheer our beloved matchmaker on. :)

**--------------------------------**

Look! The Paparazzi!

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It was the incessant pattering of raindrops that woke Cody the next morning, slowly dragging him from the dreamless comfort of his slumber. Yawning widely, he cracked an eye open, and sighed in the face of the vision that met him. Outside, the Playa was the picture of dreary weather, with a languid haze hanging over the pool and raindrops running down his window like the tears of the heavens.

Cody stretched, wincing as his back popped and cracked in protest. Evidently, the couch made a pretty dismal bed, and he made a mental note to never sleep _there _again.

But just then, his eyes fell upon the glow of clock, and his thoughts ground to a sudden halt. With a sudden yelp of shock, Cody leapt from the couch as if burned, and raced to the dresser to begin yanking on the drawers like a dog desperate for its bone. It was ten-thirty, and breakfast closed in a half-hour!

Cody dashed around his suite feverishly as he dug up whatever clean clothes he could and tossed them on unceremoniously – yet again disordering his once-neat room in the process. But, spurned on in the way that only food could, Cody was dressed and as presentable as a teen ever cared to be in a record three minutes.

So hurried was he to get to the dining room in time for his daily omlette, he almost didn't notice the small envelope that had been slipped under the door. But then he paused, lifting his foot from its dangerously-close proximity to the paper, and peered at it curiously.

It was a light, pastel shade of sky blue that made the outside weather wilt in shame, and on the back was his name, scrawled in skewed, haphazard lettering. With a slight frown, Cody slit the top and pulled out the letter that lay nestled within.

_Hi Cody, _it read.

_You were still asleep when I stopped by, so I hope you get this in time. But Bridgette and I are planning a huge, surprise party for the winner, and everyone should help to make it totally awesome. We're having a meeting at eleven in the dining hall to divide up the jobs and stuff, so meet us there, dude! If you wake up in time, that is. _

_Rock on!_

_Geoff_

As he scanned this, Cody's eyes widened in evident excitement, and he quickly thanked the Lord for getting him up in time for the meeting. A surprise party for the winner, eh? It sounded like a ton of fun, and Cody _knew_ he wasn't going to miss a moment of it.

With an energized spring in his step, Cody strode proudly from his room towards the elevators at the end of the hall. The dreary weather outside was no foreshadowing of the day yet to come, he decided, and he planned to make the most of every moment - _carpe diem, _as the Romans would say.

Only vaguely did he wonder why he was in such a good mood.

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Had Cody not needed to go to the bathroom before breakfast, or indeed, if he had even chosen to go in his suite beforehand, perhaps everything would have turned out differently than the way it did. But the fact was, he _did _need to go, and as a result, he took a slight detour on his way to the dining room. And it was from this detour that everything _truly _began.

As Cody strode towards the dining hall after his quick pit-stop, he was distractedly humming an annoyingly-repetitive song under his breath with his hands lounging in his pockets. But then, the tune suddenly cut off as he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

On one of the couches at the far end of the hall, a dark figure lay still, apparently asleep. It wasn't a flagrant oddity, yet there was something definitively strange about it that stridently cried out to him. Curious, Cody inquisitively cocked his head to one side, but whereas he normally would have dismissed it as a napping intern and continued on his way, something urged him to take a closer look.

And if he hadn't, where would this story be?

When he was about eight feet away, a look of sudden recognition sparked across Cody's face like the arm of sunlight reaching down from the storm clouds. His pace quickened, and he fell to his knees at the side of the couch.

It was Noah, quietly curled in slumber with much the same expression as a cat bathing in the firelight. Judging by the way the cushions fell around him, he'd been there a while – possibly all night.

Cody frowned, somewhat concerned. What was Noah doing here? Why wasn't he in his room? There was absolutely no reason to pick the evident discomfort of the couch over their king-sized, tempurpedic mattresses, as Cody's still-sore back could clearly attest to. Yet, here Noah was, fast-asleep and oblivious to his presence.

As Cody mulled this over distractedly, Noah suddenly shifted in his sleep, pulling him down from the clouds of his thoughts. Cody glanced at him, somewhat ambivalent. Of course, he couldn't leave Noah sleeping here, but he looked so peaceful; it seemed almost wrong to wake him. Yet at the same time, who knew what atrocities might occur if the wrong ex-camper stumbled upon him? Cody didn't want to think about it.

With an apologetic expression, Cody hesitantly reached out a hand to hover over Noah's exposed shoulder. He paused, eyes tracing Noah's sleeping face one last time, but then gently shook him.

"Noah?"

Noah woke up immediately, his dark eyes flying open. "Huh?" he gasped, sitting up. "C-cody?"

"Yeah?" Cody answered from his spot on the ground, having fallen over backwards in shock at Noah's violent awakening.

"What the--?" he began, clearly baffled. Then comprehension dawned on him, and Cody could practically see the lightbulb brightening over his head. "Oh."

"What are you doing here?" Cody inquired.

Noah flushed suddenly, and he glanced away in unease. Seeing this, Cody blinked in bewilderment. Whatever could be bothering him so much? "I – misplaced my room key," Noah muttered finally, not meeting his eyes.

"But then why didn't you ask me?"

Noah glanced up at him fleetingly, and the look in his eyes reminded Cody strikingly of a cornered mouse. "I thought you'd already be asleep," he said to his feet. "I didn't want to bother you."

"But that's stupid!" Cody retorted fervently, and Noah's eyes widened in sudden surprise at his violent tone. "Ask me next time, 'kay? I wouldn't mind."

At first, Noah said nothing, but under Cody's smoldering, insistent glare, he had no choice but to murmur his consent. Immediately, Cody brightened, as if he'd been promised a puppy for his next birthday.

"Well, come on then," he urged, grasping Noah's hand and pulling him to his feet. "Let's go for breakfast, and after Geoff's meeting, we can go get another room key for you."

But Noah froze suddenly, his eyes wide. "Geoff's meeting?" he echoed.

"Oh, yeah, you don't know about that, do you?" Cody replied, misreading the shock in Noah's expression. "They're gonna be planning a big party for the winner right after breakfast. You didn't get the message 'cause you were here all night."

Noah's eyes were still narrowed with festering suspicions, but like a child who couldn't explain what had happened to his homework, all words seemed to have escaped him. There was just no logical rationalization as to why he wouldn't be able to go. So, teeth gritted in obvious frustration, Noah allowed himself to be dragged off begrudgingly to the dining hall. Perhaps Geoff's new plot wouldn't be as devious and humiliating as the others, he hoped.

And perhaps pigs would fly.

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The dining room was as silent as a ghost town when they entered, and it was just as deserted. However, the buffet was still stocked with dishes upon dishes of every breakfast food anyone could ever desire – from pancakes to eggs to cereal, and even to the slightly less-usual _dosa_. (1) All of it was heated with small, open flames dancing below the pans, and the warm aroma lit upon the air like a promise of perfection. Beside him, Noah could almost feel the happiness radiating off Cody, and he rolled his eyes. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't completely quiet his own stomach's growl of eager anticipation.

The two fell upon the buffet with a vengeance, eagerly appeasing their late-morning, bottomless appetites. At first, Noah ate nervously, his eyes darting around the dining room like those of a trapped cat's. He knew Geoff was up to something, but he wasn't sure as to exactly what it was, or when it would begin. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in anxious anticipation.

However, as Noah chewed distractedly at his bacon, the earliest visitors began to drift in. The first to arrive was Ezekiel, looking as quirky as ever, and who was soon followed by a topless Justin and his twin groupies. Afterwards, Harold slipped in, checking over his shoulder uneasily as he scouted out a decent hideaway from the eyes of the ever-vigilant Courtney. When the dining room's volume had begun to escalate gradually to the dull roar of eight different campers, even Noah begrudgingly had to agree that perhaps Geoff wasn't plotting anything past the ostensible party meeting.

The last person to arrive was Courtney, who, never one to be late, had stalked through the door at _exactly _eleven o'clock with the proud air of a lioness. Seeing her, Harold gave a little cry of utter terror and dove under the nearest table, where he lay, trembling. One of the chefs cleaning up the remains of the buffet kicked him mischievously, and Noah couldn't help a snort as Harold hastened to suppress his yelp. But, thankfully for Harold, Courtney didn't notice.

Now, Geoff stood suddenly and cleared his throat. Of course, being an audience of teenagers, the room took a good several minutes to fall silent, but it didn't faze him in the least. Rather, he took the time to send a wide grin in Noah's direction, suggestively glancing at the way Cody was sitting beside him. Noah glowered.

"Hey, what's up guys?" Geoff called finally, ushering the last couple chatterers to silence. "Glad you could all make it!" He beamed around the room, and his excitement was infectious. A smattering of babble broke out again, but it quickly hushed as he continued: "Well, there's only four campers left on the island, and we should be getting one more here tonight. So, Bridgette and I thought we should throw a totally awesome surprise party for whoever wins!"

He paused, looking as excited as a puppy in the face of a new ball, but his words were met with only an anticipatory silence. This was old news. Geoff coughed. "And, well, to make it as awesome as possible, everyone should work together. We need someone on each different job, like, food, music, decorations, special stuffs, and whatever else you guys can think of. You can work in pairs or whatever – just tell me and Bridgette what you're gonna do. Sound cool?"

"I have a question," Eva spoke up abruptly. "Why are we throwing this person a party? They already have the hundred-thousand dollars."

There was a slight murmur of consent from the audience, but it was quickly squashed by Bridgette's calm, yet determined, response. "We can't be mean just because they were luckier than we were," she said. "We all tried, but they're just the one who won. And we should support them. Besides, it's just as much a good-bye party for us as anything, because we'll be going home right afterwards."

In the face of this truth and wisdom, a hushed silence fell. But then it was broken as Izzy called out: "What stuff do we get – to like, make it awesome?"

"Um," Geoff answered, looking a little perturbed. "When I spoke to Chris, he said he could probably supply with anything, as long as it wasn't alcohol, drugs, or atomic bombs, dude. But for the more iffy stuff, you have to just propose it to him in a letter. Izzy, I think you're gonna have to write the letter for whatever you have in mind, man."

She grinned, not denying it for a moment.

"So," Geoff continued. "Get together and start thinking, dudes! Tell me and Bridgette when you come up with something."

Immediately, the volume spiked to a din as friends excitedly bounced ideas off each other and formed teams. People raced across the dining hall to find others and confirm something or another with the two chief planners, and the last few chefs quickly dashed to the kitchens to escape the chaos.

All the while, Noah was discreetly edging towards the exit.

The very idea of helping with this party made him shiver in disgust. He hated anything of the sort, and steered clear at all costs. He couldn't stand the late-night adrenaline and rebellion that all parties seemed to instigate, not to mention the way that the teenagers 'danced', flirting and grinding on the dance floor with no regards to their impropriety. Why in the world would he want to support such immature indecency? And that wasn't to mention the terrible foreboding he had that Geoff was up to something with the entire scheme.

Across the dining room, Geoff had spotted Noah and was quickly making his way over to accost him. Seeing this, Noah's eyes narrowed, and he hastened to make his escape.

But then, he was suddenly propelled backwards by the very demeanor of an unexpected attacker. Struggling to regain his balance, Noah pressed himself to the wall and stared up in shock into Cody's eager, Caribbean-blue eyes.

"Hey, Noah!" Cody said excitedly, seemingly oblivious. "You wanna work together?"

Noah gaped. "Work together?" he echoed. His mind was blank, as if it had suddenly crashed at the sound of Cody's words.

"Yup! I mean, you mentioned yesterday how you were so upset when you couldn't make fireworks in your chem class, right? But what if we made homemade fireworks for the party? It would be amazing!"

Fireworks. Noah's eyes widened slightly as his mind slowly began to function again. It was a brilliant idea; not only would it give him an excuse to be spared from Geoff's soon-to-be-approaching crusade against all who didn't contribute, it would actually be _fun_ for him. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before.

Then his eyes met Cody's, and the words echoed reverberatingly in his head: _You wanna work together_? He swallowed. Work with Cody? The very idea was so surreal, yet it was imposing upon him with the intensity of a supernova. He wasn't sure he could with the constant obstacle of his turbulent emotions, and he knew the more sensible option was to decline.

But as he opened his mouth to refuse, something caught his eye. There was something in Cody's expression, almost indefinable, that made him halt. It was a sort of alacrity unfamiliar to him, mixed with a deep, imperturbable trust. And as Cody met his gaze steadily with a bright, excited grin, Noah found he couldn't say it.

Well, why couldn't they work together? As friends, Noah knew it would be a lot of fun for the both of them, and, besides, he could find no way to reject Cody's offer without hurting the other boy. He opened his mouth again.

"Sure."

"Awesome!" Cody grinned, holding a hand up to slap Noah a high-five. Only slightly nervously, Noah obliged.

Just then, Geoff managed to squeeze his way through the crowd to stand before them like a proud prince. "Hey, guys!" he crowed in greeting. "What are you doing? 'Cause I thought –,"

"We're working together," Cody cut him off excitedly.

Geoff blinked, clearly taken aback. He hadn't been expecting his plot to work out so easily, or that he wouldn't actually have anything to do in the least. He glanced at Noah in obvious surprise, but Noah just crossed his arms with an expression that clearly read: _It was all Cody._

Geoff couldn't restrain a wild grin. "Awesome, man!" he laughed. "So, what are you working on?"

"Fireworks," Noah replied calmly. "We'll need copper, sodium --,"

But Geoff cut him off, with a frantic wave of his hand. "Whoa, whoa, man! I can't remember all that, dude! You'll have to right Chris the letter yourself, okay?"

Noah shrugged. "I guess."

"Well, fireworks sound totally awesome, dudes!" Geoff clapped Cody on the back approvingly, a seemingly-permanent grin plastered across his face. "I can't wait to see what you guys do!"

"It _will _be awesome," Cody answered proudly. Then he grabbed Noah's hand, dragging him to the door despite his startled protests. "Come on – let's go write that letter!"

Geoff laughed, waving them off. Everything was going to plan, and even when the two had long disappeared from sight, he couldn't quite wipe the satisfied grin entirely from his face. There was absolutely no chance that he wouldn't meet the one week deadline.

--------------------------------

On the other side of the island, where the oblivious competitors still resided, the weather was no better. And as the campers stared drearily at the cobalt-grey sky, Chris was scanning letter upon letter from the over-zealous teens at the Playa. Yes, he had agreed to give them _almost_ anything for their big party, but now, he was extremely grateful for his use of the word _almost_.

Izzy was not getting her rabid raccoons.

As he sipped serenely at his decaf non-fat mocha latte, he slit the last letter open. Almost immediately, his eyes widened slightly as he realized that this one would be strikingly different from all the others.

For starters, it was conveyed in small, neat lettering with meticulous care that wasn't quite feminine, yet not at all the typical, masculine scrawl of most teen boys. Then, as he began to read, he found the sentences surprisingly eloquent and intelligent, flowing gently like the waters of a stream. The wording was extraordinarily powerful, and Chris could not help but to agree with everything, down to last comma.

The letter was signed: _Sincerely, Noah and Cody._ Chris made a mental note to check if either of them was on the debate team.

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**I know I said that chapter nine would be four pages, but I guess I lied . . . chapter ten **_**will**_** be, though! I promise . . . I think. ^.^'**

**Anyways, I write to get better, so constructive criticism is much appreciated. :) Don't hesitate to tell me whatever you think I could do to make this story better! **

**(1): Dosa is an South-Indian breakfast food. It isn't sweet, but very tasty nonetheless. **

**Happy Holidays, all!**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	10. Un Peu de 'Je Ne Sais Pas'

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 10 ~ Un Peu de 'Je ne sais pas' (A Little 'Je ne sais pas')**

**A/N: **I can't believe I'm on chapter ten already! It's so surreal . . . I've never gotten past chapter seven on _anything_ before. ^.^ I'm shocked. I _will _finish this. :) And by the way, all information on fireworks in this chapter is true – I think. But if you want to make fireworks at home with what's in this chapter, you didn't hear it from me.

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Hey! Watch the face, dude!

-----------------------------

Cody anxiously pushed the chairs towards the corners of the room, wincing at the strident grinding of the legs against the tile floors. The center of the room was left bare, with nothing but a tarp adorning the stone, while everything else was shoved as far away as possible. A fire extinguisher rested on the sidelines, discreetly stolen from the kitchens, and all exits were left entirely unobstructed.

Perhaps it was a bit much, but Noah had insisted upon safety. **(A/N: That goes for you, too, kids! Be careful when playing with fire!)**

When the two had received the message that their fireworks supplies had come in, down at the docks, they had hastened to hijack one of the only rooms with a tile floor. In the case of a chemical spill, it would be important to recover as much expensive materials as they could, and to leave as little as possible behind to serve as a potential health hazard. Upon discovering this seemingly-purposeless room, Noah had left Cody with explicit instructions of how to secure it, and then left to pick up their package at the dock.

At this point, Cody was pretty sure that he had followed Noah's directions word for word, but like a valedictorian re-does her homework thirteen different times, he couldn't help but to anxiously rearrange the chairs again and again. All the while, he glanced over his shoulder apprehensively as he waited with eager anticipation for Noah's return. He found that he could hardly tear his eyes away from the door for anything longer than five seconds, and he twisted around so often; he'd already cricked his neck.

Cody frowned, gingerly rubbing the complaining joint. Noah was taking a surprisingly long time; he'd vanished over ten minutes ago, and surely the Playa wasn't _that _big. Nervously, Cody checked the door again. Still no sign.

Yet, just as he began to wonder if he should go looking for Noah, the door suddenly bounced open, grumbling about the way it had been so rudely kicked.

Noah just barely stood there, hardly able to stay upright under the crushing weight of the package. The box itself was almost as large as he was, and his face was red with exertion. Yet he said nothing as he struggled forwards.

"Oh my gosh, Noah!" Cody cried, rushing to grab the other end of the box. He hefted it up, and then almost staggered in shock as he felt the sheer weight. "Do you ever ask for help?"

Noah glowered at him from around the bulk. "I got it," he murmured, trying to pull it back.

But Cody clamped on tighter, in much the same way that his father would refuse to relinquish his morning coffee. "Stop being noble," he retorted. "Let me help you."

Although his scowl never lightened, Noah begrudgingly allowed Cody to help him carry the package to the tarp and gingerly set it down. After all, it only was about three feet away, and while he didn't say so, his fingers were slipping dangerously.

When the box finally sounded its welcome _thud _as it hit the ground, Noah sighed in relief and straightened.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Cody teased.

Noah just fixed him with a look as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to force his back into its proper shape. "I still could have done it," he muttered finally, disguising a wince. "It wasn't that far."

"Yeah, Noah, we know." Cody rolled his eyes. "But come on; let's open up this bad boy!"

Several minutes later, the entirety of the contents were sprawled across the tarp, like the post-birthday toys scattered throughout a child's bedroom. There were tubes upon tubes of every chemical they could possibly want, casings and wicks for the firework bodies, and matches, matches, and more matches. It was a pyrotechnic's heaven.

"Oh . . . my . . . gosh . . .," Cody breathed, staring out in awe at the materials laid before them.

"I know," Noah agreed quietly. "We'll have to thank Chris later."

"No kidding. Where did he _get_ all this stuff?"

"The black market, I bet."

Cody glanced at him briefly, unable to disguise a smirk. "You know what?" he answered. "I could totally see that."

Catching Cody's infectious excitement, Noah felt a small smile tugging at his own lips, and he looked away hastily. But Cody had spotted it, and his grin widened involuntarily as something soared within him.

Finally, Noah coughed and snatched up a couple packets of salts. "Let's start on the gunpowder," he instructed, a tone of authority in his voice. "Can you pass me the sulfur and saltpeter?"

Wordlessly, Cody obliged. Nodding his thanks, Noah tore open a few packets and meticulously began to mix the contents together, his eyebrows knitted in careful concentration. But then he glanced up suddenly. Cody was just sitting there, watching him in awed silence. As their eyes met, Cody grinned sheepishly and quickly turned away to begin fiddling with the casings. Noah flushed.

Why had Cody been watching him?

Then Noah's eyes fell on the string Cody was cutting into fuses, and he blanched. "Whoa, Cody!" he cried, making the brilliant-blue eyes turn upon him with a startled expression. "Not so long!"

Cody glanced down at his lap where the cut strings lay, curling around his legs in eight-inch lengths. "Huh?" he said. "I just – it would give us more time . . ." His voice trailed off suddenly, but not before Noah noted a slight tone of shame painting his words.

Suddenly, comprehension dawned. Eyes widening, Noah stared up at Cody in complete and utter shock. "You're a _pyrophobe_," he breathed incredulously. "That's why your worst fear is dismantling a bomb under pressure – you're scared of fire!"

Cody ducked his head abashedly. "Of explosions," he corrected quietly. "Not fire."

"Either way, you hate fireworks! Why are you working on them?"

"I'm not _that _scared of explosions!" Cody retorted hastily, his eyes wide with indignity. "I just feel a little uncomfortable around them."

But Noah's gaze never softened, and he crossed his arms stalwartly. Cody met his eyes steadily. "And _why_ are you working on fireworks, then?" Noah insisted coldly, entirely unfazed.

"Well, I thought --," Cody stammered hurriedly, his own staunch attitude making him answer a little too quickly. "I thought that you'd want to, because you'd been so put out when you couldn't do them in your chem class. And I thought that if I worked with you, it might be fun!"

"Even though you hate fireworks?"

"But I don't hate them!" Cody snapped. "I just don't like their explosions. But they're pretty, and I like working with chemicals. I'll enjoy this just as much as you will."

Noah stared at him in utter incredulity, almost completely robbed of words. "Not if you hate explosions. Why--?" But then he abruptly fell silent as Cody cut him off.

"Of course I'll enjoy it, because I'll be doing it with you. There's no one at the Playa I'd rather work with."

Suddenly, Noah found himself struck as mute as the string in his hand.

-----------------------------

"Geoff. I need to talk to you."

Noah's quiet voice cut through his thoughts with the sharpness of a silver blade. Glancing up, Geoff saw in his expression a something he couldn't quite name, and immediately, he knew it was important.

"Yeah?" he answered.

Quickly, Noah glanced over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed in slight frustration as he scanned the hordes of ex-campers, of all the potential eavesdroppers, and he hissed slightly. Geoff blinked, a little bemused, but when Noah discreetly gestured for him to follow, he obeyed without question.

Noah led him out into a deserted hallway, where the profound silence was broken only by the gurgle of the pipes. Geoff glanced around, somewhat anxiously, taking in the seclusion and bareness of this particular hall; apparently, no one other than themselves and the employees had ever been here since the start of the show, and clearly, there was little chance for anyone to start coming here now. Geoff frowned, but he could only hope that Noah would promptly get to the point of this conversation.

Perhaps some higher power had heard Geoff's prayer, because just then, Noah turned, and Geoff could see his miniscule jamming device nestled in his palm like a tiny beacon of safety.

"What's going on, dude?" Geoff asked finally, leaning back against the wall. "Is everything okay?"

Noah rolled his eyes, but as his gaze met Geoff's, Geoff nearly fell over in shock. In Noah's expression, there was a small, yet clearly genuine smile unlike any he had ever seen adorning the darker boy's face. And as his eyes flit upwards in obvious surprise, Geoff saw sparkling in Noah's eyes an excitement he could only compare to that of a child's on their first snow day.

"Dude?" Geoff repeated.

Noah's grin suddenly widened, as if he could no longer suppress it, and he snorted. "I'm _fine_," he answered. "No, I wanted to say thanks."

"Thanks, man?" Geoff hardly dared to breathe.

"Yeah. For working so hard to try to get me and Cody together."

Suddenly, Geoff's jaw fell open, and he stared at Noah in utter shock. "Did you--?" he began.

But Noah's eyes widened as he realized what he meant. "No, no!" he interrupted hastily. "We didn't get together! And I still don't think you're going to succeed." But then his eyes softened, and he murmured: "But becoming friends with him was one of the best things that has ever happened to me. So, thanks."

Geoff was speechless. He had not, in the least, expected such a confrontation from Noah; it would be like hoping for snow in July – in the Sahara desert. It had seemed so impossible, so unfeasible, he had believed that the only encouragement he would ever receive for his work would be the support of Bridgette and LeShawna. Yet, here he stood, in the face of what he only dared dream of. Perhaps he should check the weather forecast for the Sahara.

Glancing up, Geoff's eyes softened as he realized he had never seen Noah as happy as he was now. The usually-cynical teen was truly smiling for once, and although his expression was distant, it was glazed with the pure euphoria of cloud nine.

And it was then that Geoff knew that he was doing the right thing.

"No problem, man," he answered finally, clapping Noah on the back. "It's just my job – and I _will _get you and Cody together, bra."

Noah rolled his eyes. "I doubt it." But there was something hopeful in his expression.

-----------------------------

**I'm . . . done? Someone pinch me; I must be dreaming. But I blame this on my dad, because he's supposed to pick us up at 10 PM for Christmas Eve. Of course, by the time **_**three**_** struck, we had nothing to do. So, we watched two movies, and I still had time to write this. Not that I'm complaining, of course. ^.- **

**Please review, and remember, **_**constructive criticism **_**is loved! **

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	11. Tout C'est Perdu

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 11 ~ Tout c'est perdu (All that is lost)**

**A/N:** All the snow melted, and I'm feeling very sad . . . oh, well. At least it hung around for Christmas. :) Anyways, sorry if I start updating a little more slowly; I have a bunch of ideas for little oneshots bouncing around in my skull, and I might write one here and there. I won't talk about them here, because I have a rather bad habit about ranting about my stories when no one in the vicinity actually cares – neither are for TDI. ^.^'

Also, I just got a brand-new beta reader! Say hi to Waterfall, everyone!

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I've run out of quotes, so please enjoy some soothing elevator music while the story begins.

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The soft creak of the door brushed against Cody's ear, and he glanced up in eager anticipation, his eyes bright.

"You're late," he announced accusingly, despite an irrepressible grin.

Noah rolled his eyes. "Not usually," he muttered. It was true; in general, he was a very punctual person, and was late very rarely. However, when he was being continuously harassed by a certain, homemade plushie that _never _wanted stay with its proper owner, he couldn't help being sidetracked frequently. Hopefully, however, Geoff would finally leave him alone this time.

He wished.

"If you say so," Cody answered, and it took Noah a moment to remember what he was referring to. "Hurry up already; I'm working on the spinning steel wool fireworks now. Can you straighten out this wire for me?"

"Sure." Noah shrugged, reaching down for it.

It had hardly been one day since the firework supplies had come in, but you wouldn't know it by their astounding progress. Already, they had finished ten firecrackers, thirteen sparkler bombs, and three bottle rockets. They'd also begun working on some colored-smoke bombs, but had run out of potassium nitrate. At the moment, they were waiting for the second supply to come in so that they could finish the smoke bombs.

Currently, however, Noah was in a particularly peevish mood, having been harassed a little too long by the combined efforts of Geoff, Bridgette, and LeShawna. It seemed that every time he shook one's pestering, there was another lurking behind the next corner to pick up where the previous had left off, and nothing he could tell them would ever drive them away.

His nerves weary and his tone strained as a result, Noah was more than grateful for the quiet of the newly-christened 'fireworks room', whose whereabouts were still as of yet unknown to the little band of Cupid-wannabe's. However, there was still something sinisterly dark in his expression that weighted down the very air about him. Perhaps it was the way the cynical lift of his eyebrows that seemed a little more cruel, or maybe it was the strain in his usual nonchalance, but there was something that screamed a foreboding frustration.

As Cody wrapped the steel wool around the end of the wire Noah held out for him, he commented absentmindedly: "I really hope Gwen wins."

If Cody had learned to better read expressions, or indeed, if he simply had the sense to keep quiet during the imminent dangers of an introvert's broodings, the subsequent disaster might have been avoided. Unfortunately, having grown up an only child, Cody knew nothing of the sort, and simply could not wrap his mind around the concept that Noah desperately needed his solitude.

Of course, what happened next was not entirely Cody's fault; Noah, too, should have realized at whom his frustrations should be directed, and held better self-control over his temper. Yet, as the undisputed genius wherever he went, Noah had never needed to learn much about the realms of self-control, and no epiphany reached him now.

At the sound of Cody's comment, something burst within Noah. His darkening mood finally erupted with a sort of reserved violence that could not be controlled, and as it furiously grew and festered, it broke through even Cody's oblivious vision.

"No," Noah answered coolly.

But his tone was cold, cruel even, and Cody's eyes widened in indignant disbelief. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"I mean, Gwen shouldn't win. She doesn't deserve to."

"What?" Cody's eyes narrowed, glinting in steely fire. "Why not?"

Noah sighed theatrically. "It's a _hundred-thousand dollars_," he answered, as if spelling it out for someone a little slow in the head. "I can think of a hundred-thousand people who deserve it more than she does."

"But she wants to help her single mother raise her and her brother!"

"So? I don't like her."

Cody faltered in sudden surprise, but then his glare intensified, and he crossed his arms. "Why not?" he demanded again.

Noah rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Because she's – I just don't know. I just don't like her, brainiac."

"That doesn't make much sense."

Snorting, Noah retorted: "She's not that great, so you should stop talking about her like she is."

"What?! Noah!" Cody gaped, furious. "That's so irrational! You're being a jerk!"

"Irrational? Whatever. You just don't get it."

"Then explain it to me."

Noah glanced up, meeting his smoldering glare, but he just mirrored Cody and crossed his arms. "You wouldn't understand." And yet, he didn't quite understand it himself. How to explain the burning irritation, the incessant sadness he felt at the very mention of her name? How to describe the utter fury and longing?

"How would you know?" Cody snapped, his voice beginning to rise from frustration and rage. "Maybe you're not as smart as you think! Maybe you just don't let anyone else prove that they can listen, too!"

For Noah, that was the last straw, and he stood up suddenly, looming over Cody like a threatened lion. "As if you listen any better! Why do you think you don't have a girlfriend? Because you're not 'cool', so get over it already!"

For a moment, Cody was speechless. But then he chucked the steel wool across the room with so much force that the wire bent against the air, and he exploded: "I can't believe you, Noah! I thought you were my friend. I wanted to make fireworks with you because I knew you loved them, and although I can't _stand _them, I wanted to hang out with you! Some gratitude I get!"

"Well, I never _asked_ for you to brave the fireworks for me, in case you don't remember," Noah snapped. "So, go, work with Trent or something! I'll do it alone!"

Now, the boiling rage in his veins had begun to die down, only to be replaced with an immense pain and frustration that threatened to overwhelm him. His nose burning as he fought back tears, Noah spun on his heel and marched out of the room with the air of an injured cat.

As he strode away, the whipping winds of fury lashing with those of hurt, he suddenly heard a choked sob sound from the room he had just abandoned. He half-turned, a sudden pang pulling at him, but then he stopped himself. Setting his face in a firm determination, he looked away. Cody had made his thoughts clear. With an angry, regretful tear sliding down his face, he spun on the spot and raced away, as if trying to outrun all the pain he'd caused.

--------------------------------

Geoff strode proudly down the halls, basking in self-appreciation and pride. It had taken him hours of hard work and long research, even with the combined aid of both Bridgette and LeShawna, but he'd finally done it.

He'd found the location of the 'fireworks room'.

Practically singing in anticipation of all the havoc he could wreak, Geoff almost didn't notice the sounds tearing through the peace of the backrooms. But then he fell still. His eyes wide in disbelief, he strained his ears to catch a sound he wasn't quite sure he'd heard and really hoped he hadn't.

But he had.

"So, go work with Trent or something!" came the furious shout. "I'll do it alone!"

Peering around the corner anxiously, Geoff was just in time to see Noah storm out of the room, a turbulent air of anguish thrashing around him. Immediately putting two and two together, Geoff's eyes widened in desperate disbelief, and his fingers curled into anxious fists.

A strange noise emanated from the room, like a half-stifled sob, and Geoff felt his heart twist in sympathy. Apparently, Noah had heard it too, for he turned, as if by instinct, to return.

But then Geoff watched his expression harden, and Noah raced off, leaving the fireworks, Cody, and everything that symbolized how far they'd come. Geoff felt his heart drop like a stone in the water.

Could it really all be over?

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**This is the closest to angst I've ever written – I know, pathetic. XD But it's not over yet! (As if I could ever write an unhappy ending.) Next chapter will have much bittersweet fluff. Kudos to you, wonderful readers!**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	12. Sans Toi, Je Suis Cassé

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 12 ~ Sans Toi, Je Suis Cassé (Without You, I am Broken)**

**A/N: **I can't believe I still have an ENTIRE WEEK of break! It seems to be going by so slowly – probably because I'm so worried about my chemistry grade; I'm _anxious _to get back to school. But why bother you, dear readers, with mindless prattle about my own problems? You're here to enjoy a lovely story about such problems of fictional cartoon characters – a much more pleasurable practice, might I say.

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YOU'LL NEVER GET ME ALIVE!

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Noah stared unseeingly at the page before him, the letters clustering in his vision like little ants scurrying across the white. He frowned uncomprehendingly at them, and brushed a finger across the first line, as if he were a child playing at the anthill.

Although this novel was the favorite of all the books he'd brought, Noah could not concentrate on the words before him, and of the ten pages he'd turned over the past three hours, he could remember none of it. His thoughts were in turmoil, ricocheting off his skull with enough vigor to bruise as they spun in endless, chaotic circles. He just couldn't get yesterday's incident out of his head.

Just the other day, hadn't he told Geoff that becoming friends with Cody was the best thing that had ever happened to him? Hadn't they'd spent timeless moments together, oblivious to the passing hours? Noah had never met anyone who knew video games and science as well as he did; never before had he spoken at such depth over the graphics, the gameplay, and the overall quality of Flame Insignia, nor discussed complex chemical theories with anyone who truly cared. Cody had even cut him off -- not out of impatience, but because he'd already known what Noah was about to say before he had even opened his mouth.

Beside him, Noah's hands balled into fists. They'd got along so well. Why had that all changed?

But even as he stared up at the ceiling it utter hopelessness, Noah knew _exactly_ what had happened. Having been the silent introvert his entire life, surrounded with eight persistent siblings, Noah had exploded in similar ways more than once before. However, he'd always managed to worm his way out of every resulting consequence with a few pretty words and the right amount of pressure; never before had he ever been faced with a predicament like the one he now found him himself tangled within.

Never before had been so filled with self-loathing.

How could he blame Cody for what had happened? It wasn't Cody's fault that he liked Gwen, and besides, Noah didn't even have the right to feel jealous. He and Cody were just friends, and they would be anything more. There was just no justification for Noah to flip like he had, or for him to say what he did. He'd let his razor-bladed tongue lash out at Cody, and he'd hurt him.

Suddenly, something tore within Noah. Gritting his teeth in livid self-disgust, he blinked furiously at the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. What had he done?

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Unbeknownst to Noah, at that very moment, similar thoughts were swirling around Cody's mind like the winds of a hurricane. Glaring darkly as the 'Game Over' screen flashed before his eyes yet again, Cody arranged his face in a shadowed frown, but his eyes were distracted and glazed.

It was hopeless. He just couldn't focus.

Cody wasn't even entirely sure of what had happened yesterday. It had been so unreal, so impossible; he could hardly be sure it was anything more than a dream. And everything had gone by so quickly, like a summer storm erupting on a clear day, that Cody was left blinking in utter confusion at the blue skies of its wake.

Yet, he knew that it _had _happened, and as much as he couldn't fathom what had caused such an outburst, Cody's idea of Noah was mixed and darkened with the shadow of confusion. He had never seen that side of Noah before, and he just couldn't understand how that raging beast could be the same as the boy he'd laughed with.

The very idea made Cody's eyes burn in indignity. He wanted the old Noah back. He wanted to make fireworks and play video games. He wanted to argue Voltaire and Hobbes, and he wanted to joke late into the night. But most of all, he wanted his friend.

Cody could remember how euphoric he'd felt in Noah's presence, and how, at his slight smile, his quiet laugh, the world seemed to stop. He'd never known anyone quite like him. Noah had a sort of cynical wit that kept Cody in constant stitches, and a strange warmth that was hard to see on first glance. Yet Cody had seen it, just as he had seen the beauty in the sarcastic sparkle in his eyes.

So where had it all gone wrong?

Noah's words were still ringing in his head, like an ominous echo: _". . . Gwen shouldn't win. She doesn't deserve to."_ And then: _"Because you're not 'cool', so get over it already."_ The very memory wrung his heart, clenching at something within him. The words stung at him, like an unhealed wound, and his fists clenched in anguished disbelief.

He could hardly believe that it was Noah who said it; two years ago, he might have suspected alien abduction or something along similar lines. And although he had long since learned the difference between science fiction and reality, he still questioned the stability of Noah's sanity.

But he was back at square one, his thoughts having completed yet another of their endless circles. What had happened? How could it have been Noah? _Who_ was Noah? Why did he say what he did? What had even happened . . . ? It was fruitless, pointless pondering, and he had to get it out of his mind – and heart.

But he'd been telling himself that for the past several hours, and he still had yet to succeed. Cody groaned in utter despair. Lord help him; this was so stupid.

And as if his prayers had been answered, a sharp knock suddenly reverberated throughout the room.

Cody glanced up, abruptly wrenched from his thoughts. He could not comprehend, for the life of him, who it could be; he didn't know anyone who would be so concerned as to drop by his room personally. Yet even as he pushed himself from the couch, the knock sounded again, growing more and more impatient.

"I'm coming!" he called out hastily. The knocker fell silent.

But as Cody pulled the door open, he suddenly felt all the air escape him, as if his lungs had been wrenched from his chest. For there, framed in the light of the hallway like some ethereal archangel, stood Noah. Cody swallowed.

"Noah?" he hardly dared to gasp, eyes wide in amazed disbelief.

But Noah looked as uncomfortable as Cody did shocked, and he shifted his weight uncertainly under his gaze. "Hey," he murmured. "Can I come in?"

Cody frowned, feeling a dark pressure against his chest. Like a warning, yesterday's argument echoed menacingly in his mind, and his expression grew cold. But as met Noah's eyes, he paused. He didn't know what it was, but there was something about Noah's demeanor, his expression, that just couldn't let Cody turn him away.

"I guess so," Cody answered finally, stepping out of the way. But still, his heart was heavy with doubt, and he questioned his own sanity to conform to such in impetuousness. What if Noah flipped again?

Noah could sense the aura of uncertainty swirling forebodingly around Cody, and he cringed. It had taken him so long to talk himself into coming, and seeing the apprehension in Cody's eyes made him want to turn and bolt. But if he did, everything would be lost.

With a deep breath, Noah steadied himself and stepped in.

The moment the door swung shut behind him, it was as if the entire building began to whine and creak with a new vigor. Cody's eyes met Noah's, and the two of them could equally read the anxiety that smoldered there; neither of them was quite sure if they wanted to be there, or if this would make or break everything they ever had. Entwined in a brotherhood of nerves, Noah and Cody exchanged glances, their small, tentative smiles somewhat alleviating the tension.

It was Noah who spoke first. "Uh, Cody yesterday was --,"

"It hurt."

Noah glanced up suddenly, his eyes widening. But it wasn't in shock; he had expected as much. Still, somehow hearing it said aloud was like being punched in the face, and he felt something flinch within him. "Huh?"

"What you said yesterday," Cody repeated, not meeting his eyes. "It hurt."

Noah's gaze fell to his shoes. "I know," he muttered. "I'm sorry."

And in his tone, there was a sort of weight that was so full of sincerity and self-anguish, that Cody felt all words unexpectedly escape him. He swallowed, finding his throat suddenly dry.

"Then why did you say it?" he whispered finally.

"I was wrong," Noah answered as he struggled to meet Cody's eyes. "I was in an extraordinarily bad mood at the time, and I took it out on you." It was taking all his effort to not look away, but somehow, he held steady. And miraculously, his heart did not burst from overexertion in the process.

"It doesn't change what you said. Like, about Gwen."

"Yeah, I know. I shouldn't have said it; she's not that bad a person."

Cody crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. But staunchly, Noah continued: "I still don't like her, but I suppose she deserves to win as much as anyone – and more than Heather or Duncan do."

"Then why are you so against her winning?"

"I really can't explain," Noah answered, forcing himself to ignore the sudden ice in Cody's eyes. "But we just have . . . conflicting interests."

"You mean, like a personality conflict?" Cody questioned.

Pausing, Noah deliberated. His problem with Gwen was not quite a personality conflict, however, there was no proper way to describe the emotions and frustrations he felt towards her. At least, there was no way without giving away his romantic conflict as well. Finally, he shrugged. "You could say that, I suppose."

His tone was still somewhat ambivalent, and Cody didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't quite insincere, yet he knew that Noah wasn't telling him the full truth. "Well, who do you want to win?" he demanded finally.

"Owen."

"Right." He paused. "I suppose that's okay. If you were supporting, like, Heather . . . well, you just said it. Gwen deserves it more than she does."

Noah cracked a small smile, his fingers fidgeting anxiously in his pockets. "Yeah. We can support different people, can't we?"

"But it's more than that," Cody pointed out. "Dude, you said some mean things to me, too."

It was as if Cody had slapped him. Noah flinched, feeling his heart sink into the depths of his stomach, and he murmured in a near-inaudible tone: "I know. I'm sorry."

But Cody frowned, shaking his head. "That doesn't change what you said – like, 'go work with Trent'. You wanted to work alone, remember?"

"But I don't want work alone! That's why I'm here!"

And in his eyes, there was a deep, burning anguish that made something within Cody clench in sympathy. But the pain from the earlier calamity still lingered, and he retorted: "What about how you said that I shouldn't talk about Gwen like she was so great?"

"I may not like Gwen, but I have no right to tell you how you should talk."

"And what about when you said: 'you're not cool'?"

Noah's eyebrow rose somewhat hesitantly. "Not cool?" he chuckled. "I must have been temporarily insane. You're the coolest person I know."

Suddenly feeling the blood rush to his face, Cody blinked speechlessly and dropped his gaze to his toes. He didn't know what to say. After all, he could scarcely claim he'd had much practice in these situations.

"Really?" he whispered.

"Yeah, but my idea of 'cool' is biased. You might not want to take my word for it."

Still flushing, Cody found he couldn't answer as he stared at his shoes. Unfortunately however, Noah could not see the blush painting his features, and he felt his heart sink in disappointment; yesterday, Cody would have laughed.

"Listen, Cody," Noah said finally. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. I know I said some cruel things, and you're not going to forget them. And although I came here hoping for a second chance, I understand if you don't trust me enough. I'm really sorry."

With a small, rueful smile, Noah turned. "I suppose I should go, then," he murmured.

But then he nearly let out a cry of surprise, as something suddenly grabbed his hand and jerked him backwards. Turning in shock, he met Cody's eyes, and saw in them an amused determination.

Cody grinned, slightly nervously, but resolute all the same. "Who said I didn't trust you enough to give you a second chance?" he answered.

It took a great deal of self control for Noah to keep his jaw from dropping. He couldn't believe his ears. His heart thudding incessantly as if in a drum roll, Noah stared and finally replied:

"You'd forgive me?"

"Sure," Cody responded with a slight shrug. "You did come and apologize, and most people don't do that. Besides, everyone makes mistakes, right?"

"I suppose so." But his tone was distant, as his veins sang with exhilaration_. Cody was forgiving him_. It was so surreal, so fantastic, and he was completely suspicious of the author's intentions.

Cody smiled, unwittingly making Noah's heart skip an erratic beat. "Cool," he said. "So, what do you feel about the ban on dihydrogen monoxide?"

And as the chemical formula immediately flashed in his mind, Noah rolled his eyes.

-------------------------------------

**I do hope that the make-up didn't go too quickly. I worked on that, after the rapid fight last chapter. XD Lol. **

**Happy 2009, people!**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	13. Un ou Deux Tours

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 13 ~ Un ou Deux Tours (One or Two Tricks)**

**A/N: **I hurt my hand ice skating (I fell), and it really hurts to write/type. Ugh . . . Sorry if I was slow. T.T But don't tell my mom; if she even gets so much as a whiff that I hurt myself, she's all over me as if I were a delicate little daisy. XD

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Ah! Rope burn on my tongue! **(Oh, Izzy! What would I do for quotes without you?)**

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All the losers were sprawled out upon the pool deck as the rays of the sun splashed their colors across the late-afternoon sky. A warm, summer breeze kissed their skin with all the tenderness of a lover, and fireflies had begun to dance by in a luminescent ballet. If not for the incessant mosquitoes, it would have been paradise.

Geoff had called another coordination meeting for their big surprise party, and although it had ended well over an hour ago, the near-perfect weather left even cynical Noah with a deep regret to leave the nighttime air. Thus, Noah leaned intently over his book, engrossed in the pages of _Pride and Prejudice_, even as the last rays of light grew faint in the sky.

His contentment was not to last.

Suddenly, the book before him slammed shut between a pair of paler, wind-worn hands, and Noah was wrenched abruptly from his thoughts. As he glanced up with full intentions of glaring at whoever had the _audacity _to disturb him until they crumbled into well-humbled ash, he was not at all surprised to meet the over-excited gaze of Geoff himself.

Noah's glower darkened, but when Geoff did not burst into flames on the spot, he sighed theatrically and attempted fruitlessly to pry open his book once more. Of course, Geoff being many several times stronger than Noah was, the action was in vain. And, reassuring himself that he probably outstripped Geoff intelligence-wise by at least a hundred IQ points, Noah finally crossed his arms with a huff and resigned himself to a simple glare. "What?" he demanded.

"'Sup, dude? Good book?" Geoff grinned widely, but he didn't wait for a response. "Hey, man, I just wanted to talk to you, so do you think you could put that away for a second?"

Noah frowned. "This had better be important." Indeed, anything less than a matter of life or death could not be justified in pulling him away from his book just as a Miss Bingley was mocking Mr. Darcy.

"It is," Geoff insisted. "Dude, I heard about the fight between you and Cody, and bra, I feel so bad!"

"Probably not half as bad as I felt," Noah grumbled.

"Yeah, man, I'm so sorry!" Geoff cried, looking quite despaired. "And if it was my fault, seriously, I promise I'll back off. Just give me the word."

At this, Noah's eyebrows suddenly skyrocketed. Apparently, Geoff was under the impression that the fight was much worse than it really had been, and, judging by his distress, he probably didn't even know that it had already been resolved. But of course, Noah wasn't complaining. This could be used to his advantage.

"Well, of course it's your fault," Noah replied, arranging his face in the most pitiful, angsty expression he could. "Everything is over, and there's absolutely no point in ever trying again. I suppose I should get used to the idea of being a lonely, gay bachelor for the rest of my life with nothing but a houseful of cats." He sighed heavily for good measure.

Yet despite the horrendous over-dramatization, Geoff seemed quite utterly convinced. "Man, I'm sorry!" he gasped in dismay. "I mean, come on, dude, you still have hope!"

"Oh, no, no!" Noah wailed. "It's all over. And it's all because of you . . ." He turned his face away, as if from anguish in the face of the end of the world. In reality, it was to hide the small smirk he couldn't quite restrain, but it did give the entire act a nice theatrical touch.

"I know, bra, I'm so sorry!" Geoff sounded quite like a broken record at this point. "Please forgive me. I promise, I won't do anything more, as long as you promise not to give up, dude."

"But what's the point?" Noah despaired. "It's over, oh, it's all over."

"No, it's not!" Geoff insisted, his eyes wild and distraught.

But Noah shook his head, burying his face in his hands. "How can it be anything but? He hates me."

"I'm sure he doesn't really hate you, dude. I mean, you guys were awesome friends, and if I had never got in the way, you'd probably be together already. Or at least talking to each other."

Noah feigned wiping a tear from his eye as he turned his miserable gaze upwards to meet Geoff's. "Do you really think so?" he whispered, sounding as if he were about to burst into tears.

It was taking all his self-control not to burst out in irrepressible laughter at this point. Really, he should nominate himself for an Oscar.

"Yes, yes, of course, bra!" Geoff persisted. "I swear, I will never mess with you guys again! Just, you won't stop trying, right?"

"No more pranks?" Noah answered, his eyes wide with false despair.

"No more pranks."

Noah paused, as if deliberating deeply over this proposition. At the same time, of course, a small smirk was beginning to quirk at the corners of his lips, which he only suppressed with the most heroic of efforts. He couldn't believe Geoff was still so oblivious; perhaps the author had finally decided to smile in his favor.

"Alright," Noah answered at last. "I'll try."

Geoff let out a sigh of profound relief, and he smiled. "And I'll leave you alone, dude."

"Okay," Noah said wearily, giving Geoff a small, simpering smile that looked as if it could crumble into sobs at any moment. Suddenly, he had to glance away quickly to hold back the laughter threatening to overcome him. "Now can I go back to drowning myself in words?" he asked.

"Oh, of course, dude!" Geoff replied hastily as he released the book. He stood, brushing imaginary dirt off his knees, and then hastened to escape the 'miserable' cloud of Noah's gloom.

The moment Geoff had disappeared, the mirth struggling to escape Noah suddenly erupted with all the force of an emotional Pompeii. He couldn't believe Geoff had bought it. All that nonsense about the end, and being lonely, and it all being his fault – it was priceless. Noah could hardly breathe for laughter.

But karma still had yet to bite.

-----------------------------

-----------------------------

Over at the volleyball courts, the game was undeniably finished. It wasn't that the players couldn't see any longer – indeed, the flood lights had just flickered on – but Eva had decided that it was her turn to play. And although she played as a one-man team against the four other boys, she had them trembling in the furthest corner of the court. They valued their lives enough not to participate.

Unobtrusively, Cody tried to step clear of the court, but Eva's hawk-like gaze fell upon him with all the rage of a forest fire.

"Where are you going?" she demanded furiously. "This game's not over yet!"

Cody gulped, finding himself lost for words as she loomed menacingly over him. "I was – was just -," he stammered helplessly.

"Yes?"

But just then, Geoff's voice echoed across the court like the merciful cry of an angel: "Whoa, dude! Don't kill him! I just wanted to talk to him!"

"You wanted to talk to him?" Eva echoed, her glare intensifying as she glanced up.

"Yeah, man. I asked him to come over. You probably just didn't hear, bra."

Eva glowered at him with enough smoldering rage to turn any average person into a simpering lump of pity. But of course, having been rendered immune to such anger by his imperturbable optimism, Geoff just grinned.

Suddenly, Eva grasped the front of Cody's shirt and wrenched him closer so that she glaring directly into his wide, fear-ridden eyes. "Is this true?" she snarled.

"Y-yes," he squeaked.

In reality, Geoff had asked nothing of the sort. But in the face of a raging beast with a history of violence, Cody would have done anything to save his own skin. Lying was probably one of the least drastic possibilities.

Eva frowned, scrutinizing his expression darkly. But Cody's sheer terror was masking, and, with a dissatisfied grunt, Eva tossed him aside.

"Fine," she muttered darkly. "I'll just crush these guys into the dirt."

At this, the three remaining boys glanced up at Geoff in wide-eyed horror. _Take us with you_! their expressions seemed to read. But Geoff just waved, grinning broadly as he and Cody vanished into the far shadows of the deck and left them quite abandoned.

We can only hope the three boys survived.

When Cody and Geoff were safely out of earshot of Eva and her apocalyptic temper, the two paused, illuminated in the white-blue glow of the floodlights.

"Thanks, dude," Cody said finally, breaking the silence. "You really saved me back there."

"Don't mention it, man," Geoff laughed. "Besides, I kind of wanted to talk to you anyways."

"You did? About what?"

Geoff opened his mouth to reply, but then he suddenly paused. Poor Noah was a miserable, heartbroken wreck already, despite his usual stalwart attitude and resilience, and Geoff was severely shaken. The fight must have been the equivalent of dropping a nuclear bomb on the flower of their friendship.

He swallowed, not quite sure what to say. He didn't want to drudge up half-healed wounds on a pain much too raw, yet he wasn't sure how else to fix his mistake. If only Noah would let him tell Cody the full truth!

"Geoff?"

He glanced up suddenly, meeting Cody's inquisitive, cerulean gaze. "Oh," he replied, hurriedly collecting his thoughts. "Well, I heard about your fight with Noah, man."

"You did?" Cody blinked.

"Yeah, and I really hope you guys make up, dude. You were really good friends –,"

"We already made up."

Geoff's mind screeched to a sudden halt. They already made up? The fight had happened so recently, so violently, and he'd been there himself to witness the intensity of it all. How could they have already made up? And Noah was so disconsolate, as if all his hopes and dreams had been ripped from his body and trampled to a dust.

"But Noah said –," Geoff began to protest. But just then, comprehension dawned, and the metaphorical light bulb flickered on over his head with a brilliance that far outshone all the floodlights combined. _Noah_ had said. Noah had made him promise to back off and leave him alone. And Geoff knew only too well how desperate Noah was for some breathing space.

"What?" Cody cut in suddenly, wrenching Geoff down from the cloud of his thoughts.

"Oh, nothing, dude," he answered hurriedly. "Hey, man, I just remembered I have to be somewhere."

Cody blinked, a little bemused. He'd expected a somewhat longer conversation, considering Geoff's earlier demeanor. "Oh, alright," he muttered.

"Well, bye, bra!" Geoff called over his shoulder, already striding away. "Good luck escaping Eva!"

"Eva?" Cody echoed.

And then, as if on cue, a sudden snarl cut through the air behind him: "You done with your talk yet? Get over here!"

Cody yelped, wishing desperately that he could melt into the shadows as Eva towered over him, looking as if she were about to breathe fire. "Geoff? Help?" he cried weakly. But Geoff was long gone.

-----------------------------

"Hey, man."

At the sound of Geoff's voice, Noah glanced up from his book with a glower. Why couldn't people just let him read? It wasn't that difficult to figure out, and besides, what else could Geoff need to bother him about?

But oblivious to the extremely vexed expression Noah was giving him, Geoff just grinned. "You're quite the actor, dude."

That was enough to wrench Noah from his cloud of annoyance with all the tenderness of a raging wildebeest. His thoughts skidding to a halt, he hardly dared consider what might have brought up such a comment. "What?" he bluffed finally.

"I talked to Cody. Why didn't you tell me you'd made up?"

Noah rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. Well, the freedom had been nice while it lasted. "Obviously, I wanted you to leave me alone, which you had previously refused to oblige to," he answered. "And I couldn't resist the opportunity you were waving in front of my nose."

"Still, bra, you really freaked me out!" Geoff pointed out.

"You're welcome."

Geoff laughed, and thumped Noah's back in friendly amusement. Unfortunately, Noah hadn't been prepared, so he was knocked forwards and nearly tumbled into the pool with a cry. Geoff didn't notice.

"Noah, dude, I'm gonna get you back for this," he promised serenely. "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not this week –,"

Quickly recovering his balance, Noah shot Geoff an incredulous glance. "You have two days left."

"Okay, maybe in the next five minutes."

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**These chapters are getting progressively longer . . . XD Well, at least if I'm slower, you get more to read! **

**I hope everyone's recovering from post-return-to-school stress. **

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	14. Les Jours du Enfance

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 14 ~** **Les Jours du Enfance (Childhood Days)**

**A/N**: It seems I spend so much of my time apologizing for being so late posting . . . XD So, now I'm apologizing for this time and every time I might be late henceforth. School kills my time! And to those of you who saw my other fanfiction – don't worry; I'm not giving up this one. This is still my main story. ^.^

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Definitely not haiku-y.

------------------------------

Clearly, Geoff had wasted no time in keeping his promise.

Noah's eyes darkened as he glanced up. At this point, he was thoroughly convinced that he wouldn't get any peaceful reading in until he was safely at home, and considering the household cacophony he had known since birth, something had to be said for Geoff's relentless persistence.

"What?" he demanded distrustfully.

Tyler looked uncomfortable under Noah's smoldering glower, but in his expression, there was a mischievous twinkle that could mean nothing good. Noah felt his heart sink like a stone. If his suspicions were correct, Geoff was the puppeteer behind Tyler's strings, and the coming conversation would be a far cry from comfortable.

"Dude, can I see your hand?" Tyler asked.

Noah blinked. "My hand?" he echoed in utter disbelief. He half-wondered if his hearing had deteriorated from the explosions in the firework tests.

Apparently, however, he'd heard correctly. "Yeah, man, your hand," Tyler repeated.

Noah shot him an unsure look, honestly baffled as to why anyone would need to see his hand. But nor could he see any harm in doing so, and he cautiously extended his right palm. The mischievousness in Tyler's eyes flared.

Snatching at Noah's wrist, Tyler flipped a pen from his pocket. The _click _pierced through the air ominously, and, feeling a nervous dread stir in his stomach, Noah shrank back like a frightened puppy. He had a terrible foreboding that he was soon to lose what few scraps of pride he still hung onto.

The tip of Tyler's pen dug into Noah's skin. Curious, Noah tried to peer at his palm, but winced as Tyler yanked it away.

"No peeking, bra!" Tyler chided him reproachfully.

Noah rolled his eyes. "What, are we in fifth grade or something?"

At this, Tyler's grin widened with a secretive undertone, and Noah felt his stomach churn again. There was something he didn't like in Tyler's demeanor, something sinister and dark. But as much as Noah glared at him suspiciously, Tyler just blinked back at him in all the feigned innocence that screamed Geoff.

Then Tyler flipped his hand over and scrawled something hurriedly across the back. "Done!" he crowed, relinquishing his hostage.

Noah stared at his hand. Chicken scratch adorned it, the barely legible lettering spelling out a time: _6:30 AM_. Around the numbers, his skin was still somewhat red, like a halo shining around a lone cloud in the sky, or, as in Noah's opinion, like a demonic aura.

"Hey, don't look at the palm!" Tyler instructed, mere seconds before Noah turned his hand over.

"And why not?" he retorted.

"'Cause then you'd have to ask them out!"

Noah's thoughts screeched to a sudden halt. He hardly dared believe his ears, yet at the same time, he had a dreadful feeling that he had not heard wrong. It was just like something Geoff would do. "What?" he finally managed to utter.

"You're not tellin' me that you've never played this before, are you?" retorted a sharp voice behind him.

Noah nearly fell over from astonishment as LeShawna, in all likenesses, seemed to materialize out of thin air. "P-played what?" he snapped, feeling his much-abused heart protest of yet another lost beat. All this play on his nerves was getting extraordinarily overzealous, and Noah swore that if he died early, he would haunt Geoff in vengeance for the rest of eternity.

"Geez, boy. You don't get out much, do you?" LeShawna rolled her eyes. "If you look at the name on the palm before the time on the back, you gotta ask that person out!"

Noah gaped at her incredulously. "Ask that person out?" he echoed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that a _elementary school_ game?"

"Middle school, actually."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he answered sarcastically. "But I was under the impression that we were, I don't know, in _high _school?"

"It's still fun, man!" Tyler declared brightly.

Noah shot him a sidelong glance of utter skepticism, his eyes cold. "And how much are they paying you?" he inquired.

"Paying?" Tyler answered blankly.

"Yes, _paying_," Noah insisted impatiently. His tolerance was growing more frayed by each passing second he was forced to endure these increasingly more childish and less-creative antics. "Or bribing, blackmailing, et cetera. Take your pick."

"I'm not being paid," Tyler said, his eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. "What? Should I be?"

Noah didn't believe him in the slightest, and intensified his glare suspiciously. But even under the arctic temperatures of his coldest glower, Tyler continued to look as if he'd just spoken in Greek. With a final, frustrated grunt, Noah glanced away. They must be paying Tyler a lot to have him keep his silence as well, he resolved moodily.

"So, be careful not to look!" LeShawna advised suddenly, pulling him down from the clouds of his thoughts.

Noah met her eyes incredulously. Clearly, she actually believed that was going to participate in this _infantile _game. That was a laugh. He had no intentions of complying with their malicious wishes for his discomfort and making their job any easier, as he was sure he'd demonstrated only countless times previously.

"Oh, yes," he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Because that would be _such_ a tragedy, wouldn't it?" And then he pointedly flipped his hand over. On his palm lay scrawled the same chicken scratch, haphazardly spelling out the name: _Cody_. Of course, he'd expected nothing less, but still, he couldn't help but feel his heart lurch a little at the sight. He swallowed, suppressing the tension that festered within him.

Tyler gasped. "Hey, you looked, man!" he accused, clearly unashamed of stating the obvious.

In LeShawna's eyes as well, there was a sudden flame of excitement, and a malevolent grin spread across her lips. "You gotta ask him now!" she crowed.

Noah couldn't believe it. He had just made it clear that he wanted no part in this childish game, yet still, the two seemed to be hanging on their foolish delusions that he would mindlessly comply. What would he have to do to make them realize that he wasn't participating? "As if," he snapped. "This is stupid. And you can't make me."

But LeShawna's grin didn't fade for even the smallest fraction of a second. On the contrary, her eyes flared, as if she knew something he didn't. Noah felt discomfort stir in his stomach, and he forced himself to hold his indifferent composure.

"Maybe I can't," she replied. "But I sure can do it for you."

"What?" Noah replied sharply. He didn't quite know what she meant by that, but nor could it be anything good.

LeShawna ignored him. "Hey, Cody!" she called out towards the volleyball court, her voice reverberating in Noah's head like a death sentence. "Come over here, boy!"

"What? No, stop it, LeShawna!" Noah demanded hastily. "This isn't funny!"

"What are you talking about? Sure it is!" Tyler put in, then fell silent as Noah fixed him with the coldest glare yet.

"Really, LeShawna, this is stupid," he pleaded. But it was too late; already, Cody was striding towards them, bright curiosity alight in his face. Noah felt his stomach begin to churn with a renewed vengeance. Shooting LeShawna a vicious glower, he forced himself to retain his mask of apathy, but he only succeeded with the most heroic of efforts. He couldn't believe how absolutely heartless she being, straining his nerves as she did, yet she seemed quite indifferent. Actually, no; she was enjoying it.

"Hey, guys," Cody greeted, oblivious to Noah's mounting anxiety. "What's up?"

LeShawna smiled, but there was a smug undertone to her ostensibly-friendly expression. "Noah here wanted to ask you a question," she answered.

And Cody turned his vivid blue gaze to meet his, unwittingly making Noah's breath hitch in his throat. "Yeah?"

Noah tore his eyes away. This stupid game was getting way out of hand, and it seemed he was helpless to stop it. But he refused to give in as long as he still grasped the few sheds of dignity he had left. "I won't say it," he grumbled mulishly.

"Say what?" Cody inquired.

But before Noah could assure him that there was nothing worth mentioning, and that he should return to his volleyball game, LeShawna cut in: "Noah wanted to know if you'd go to the big party with him." Her eyes flashed. "He's just a little too shy to ask."

And as Cody fixed him with an astonished gaze, Noah suddenly wished with every fiber of his being to suddenly fade into the shadows behind him. Unable to hold his gaze, he turned away. He could feel his face burning with disbelief and shame, and there was something prickling at the corner of his eyes as he stared intently at the ground. He was almost numb with shock. LeShawna had actually done it. Noah could feel all his dignity slipping between his fingers like water, and a terrible sense of desperation gripped him. It was as if the world had been lost.

But just then, Cody's eyes lit up with evident comprehension, and a wide grin plastered itself across his face. Noah's eyes shot up in surprise, his thoughts frozen with daring hope and suspended disbelief.

Cody laughed. "Oh, I get it!" he crowed, and the tone in which he said it made Noah's heart suddenly sink in regret. He'd hardly dared hope, hardly dared think, and yet the sorrow seemed to wrench his heart in two. But at the same time, the relief that flowed through him threatened to overcome him like a tidal wave. Cody didn't get it; Cody didn't hate him.

"You're playing, right?" Cody continued, looking extraordinarily proud of himself. "See, they got to me, too." And he held out his hand for Noah's inspection. Immediately, Noah felt his face flush deeply as he saw his own name adorning the paler hand. He stared up at Cody in shock, but Cody was glancing pointedly away. "I haven't looked yet," he boasted.

Noah's stomach twisted in unexpected disappointment, as if it were trying to spite the euphoria of his racing heart. The sight of his name upon Cody's hand was extraordinary, yet as much as he had told himself that it was just another antic of the Cupid trio, he could not help but to feel something plummet within him. "Oh," He replied, almost inaudible. "Yeah. I'm playing."

"I knew it!" Cody glowed.

"Good for you, but you never answered the question!" LeShawna broke in, her eyes flashing with a dangerous excitement. Noah felt his heart sink like a stone, and he shot her a furious, warning glare. But she ignored him, continuing: "So, you gonna go with him, or not?"

Cody grinned and, his eyes widening in mock surprise, he brought his hand to his chest with a feminine gasp. "Me? Go with Noah?" he gushed teasingly. "Oh, would I ever!"

Noah rolled his eyes, barely able to suppress a smile. Cody could be ever-so-childish at times, but Noah couldn't have been more grateful at how smoothly the whole incident had run. It could have been a disaster, yet Lady Luck seemed to have smiled in his favor.

Suddenly, he gasped as Cody swept him up in a one-armed hug and drew him close. Staring up at Cody in wide-eyed mortification, Noah felt every sensor on his body suddenly buzz at their proximity. He was sure everyone could hear his heart pounding erratically in his chest as his cheeks flamed mercilessly, and he could hardly breathe for nerves. But, miraculously, Cody just grinned and jokingly punched his arm.

When Cody released him, Noah stumbled away fretfully, drawing upon every last scrap of composure he could. He was rattled beyond what could have ever imagined possible; it was taking all his self-control not to hyperventilate, and his eyes were still wide in shock. Yet, Cody seemed somehow oblivious to the discomfort he had caused and turned offhandedly to Tyler.

"Hey, Tyler," he said brightly, as if a thought had just occurred to him. "You want to come play volleyball? Eva's _destroying_ us – I think DJ lost consciousness."

"Heck, yeah!" Tyler jumped up eagerly, his eyes bright with the excitement of the challenge. "I'm in!"

"Great!" The slap of their high-five echoed brightly across the deck, and Noah rolled his eyes. How anyone could ever get so worked up about anything as mundane as _sports_ was far beyond him, but at least he wasn't being the target of incessant humiliation anymore.

"See ya, Noah!" Cody called over his shoulder with a small, fleeting wave.

"Bye," Noah replied lazily. "Don't die."

"I'll try not to!" he answered, laughing slightly.

When Cody finally vanished, swallowed up by the glare of the floodlights, Noah let out a heavy sigh of relief. It felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his chest.

Noah understood that the matchmakers believed they were working hard for his romantic happiness, with only the best interests in mind. Their opinions were staunch in the idea that they were right, and that their actions could only mean success in the end. But at the same time, Noah couldn't help but to wonder how much of it was true.

From what he could see, the little band of Cupid wanna-be's were blinded by their overexcitement, and they had long since ceased to observe. The feelings of both him and Cody were entirely disregarded; indeed, Noah was certain that they took considerable pleasure in his humiliation.

And to Noah, it was now exceedingly clear. Perhaps Geoff and the others had begun off well-meaning and kind and were successful at the start, but a dark line had been long over-crossed. The matchmaking had spiraled far out of hand, and the culprits in question could not, or rather, _would not_, read the signs that they were going too far.

The simple truth was: Noah's emotions had become a game.

But for this round, he'd won. Cody wasn't suspicious, and his secret hadn't been revealed. Perhaps it'd been nothing more than pure luck on his side, and maybe he wasn't religious, but Noah was beginning to believe in karma.

Turning slightly to face LeShawna, he cocked his eyebrow in his signature smirk. LeShawna smiled smugly, but Noah was unfazed. In all meanings of the word, he'd won.

"Whatcha lookin' so haughty about?" LeShawna demanded with a self-righteous tone laced through her voice. "I wanted you to go out with the boy, remember?"

Noah's eyebrow lifted. She was still certain of her success, amazingly. "We are not dating," he pointed out curtly. "He was simply joking in his acceptance."

"But he still accepted now, didn't he?"

Noah rolled his eyes. At this point, he knew there was no point in continuing his argument; LeShawna – like all of the matchmaking team – were shrewd, determined, and stubborn. Whatever he said wouldn't shake her, regardless of the evidence he may be able to dredge up. Still faintly amused by the folly of it all, Noah flipped meticulously through the pages of his book.

But suddenly, something soft and fluffy obscured the words on the page, and Noah found himself staring into the beady little eyes of an aggravating plushie.

"Geoff said to give this to you," LeShawna explained, her eyes bright in amusement. "Not sure if I wanna know the story behind it . . ."

Noah felt his cheeks flush rapidly. "It's Geoff's doing! Not my stupid plushie!" Furiously, he ripped it off the page and shoved it behind him. He swept his surroundings with a cursory gaze, hoping desperately that no one had seen the transaction. But thankfully, it seemed nobody had noticed them at all.

LeShawna looked rather amused. "If you say so, boy," she replied.

Noah fixed her with an icy glare, but he refused to say anything more. This time, the plushie would not return to Geoff's hands; that method clearly was ineffective anyway, and Noah would have to find another way to get rid of the little embarrassment on his hands. And get rid of it he would – for good.

------------------------------

**. . . I think I have unwittingly turned this fanfiction into a bit of a commentary on fandom. I didn't see that coming. I'm sorry if I offended anyone, and please don't get too upset at Noah, either. XD**

**Anyways, thanks for your awesome reviews, all! I would have never gotten so far in this story if it wasn't for your feedback, so please keep it up! And rest assured, I read each and every one. **

**As always, constructive criticism is appreciated. Thanks to all who offered it. **

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	15. L'Orage du le Coeur

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 15 ~ L'Orage du le Coeur (The Storm of the Heart)**

**----------------------------------**

Perhaps the earlier hug had shaken Noah deeply, but Cody thought nothing of it. They were simply friends enjoying a joke, and it wasn't as if guys didn't exchange one-armed hugs on a frequent basis. It had no significant weight to him, and it was highly unlikely that it would ever cross his mind again.

At least, that was what _Noah _believed Cody thought.

He couldn't have been further from the truth. In reality, Cody couldn't get the hug out of his head, and with every passing moment, something tightened within him. He could place no name to it, nor could he describe it, but something had happened. He just didn't know what.

-----------------------------------

When Cody had approached, summoned by LeShawna's call, he'd had no other thoughts of the matter other than a deep-seated relief that he was so fortunate to be saved from Eva's wrath not once, not twice, but thrice that evening. He could hardly guess at what the situation might be, but at the same time, he couldn't quite say that it mattered much to him. Safe was safe.**(1)**

But then, Cody's eyes fell upon Noah's expression, and he had paused, perplexed. Noah looked extraordinarily distraught; his eyebrows were furrowed darkly, and spasms of nerves raced across his face. Suddenly, Cody's curiosity had spiked.

As he voiced his questions, he spied Noah subconsciously curling his hands into anxious fists. This had only tugged at Cody's inquisitiveness all the more, but before he could ponder as to what it could mean, LeShawna had rudely jarred all thoughts to a skidding halt.

"Noah wanted to know if you'd go to the big party with him. He's just a little too shy to ask."

Surprise and disbelief flared within him in a blaze, and the smoke of euphoria unfurled from its depths. His staggering number of rejections throughout the years had programmed him to feel intense joy at the mere notion that someone was truly interested in going out with him, regardless of whom it may be. And apparently regardless of gender as well. But at the same time, a wave of confusion threatened to overcome him.

It wasn't that any previous ideas or assumptions were being challenged, or anything else of the sort; the source of Cody's profound bewilderment lay in the fact that _this_ was the last thing he had ever expected when he approached. He didn't know what to make of it, and he hardly knew what to think.

But then, his gaze slid across Noah's clenched fist, and the light of comprehension had dawned upon him. On the back of Noah's hand lay scribbled a spidery scrawl, the angry skin around it glowing like a beacon. Cody couldn't help an exuberant grin as he stretched his own hand on which the skin proclaimed a time of freedom. And although Noah didn't meet his eyes, Cody knew the exact expression of discomfort that would be adorning his face. He had almost laughed aloud.

Yet, as if he'd been watching Cody's reaction out of the corner of his eyes, Noah suddenly glanced up with evident surprise etched upon every feature. His dark, cynical eyes were wide with shock, and Cody fancied he'd seen a spark of joy dancing there. But it was gone so fast, he couldn't be sure if it had really ever existed.

"I get it!" Cody had announced, as he met Noah's eyes with a wild enthusiasm; he'd actually seen through the prank rather easily. It was quite a reason to celebrate. "You're playing, right?"

He proudly waved his hand before Noah, displaying whatever name was written there. Cody felt his wide grin broaden to impossible lengths as he glanced over at the mesmerizing light of the pool. With the confusion well out of his system, he was finding it difficult to suppress his excitement at the joke at hand, but at least he could resist the urge to peek at his palm.

Noah's eyes widened as they fixed at the name scrawled across Cody's skin, and there was something in his expression, like a strange mixture of disgust and excitement that Cody couldn't quite read. Cody's curiosity intensified, but he pushed it away as LeShawna spoke again:

"So, you gonna go with him, or not?"

Cody's spirits faltered. He hadn't realized it earlier, but throughout the entire conversation he'd been discreetly avoiding the actual question. And now, directly confronted with it, he had absolutely no idea of how to answer. He couldn't agree, that much was obvious, but at the same time, he didn't want to directly reject it either. Perhaps it was nothing more than a joke, but Cody felt that if he declined explicitly, he might wound Noah's feelings.

Cody's gaze swept his surroundings swiftly, searching for some answer to his predicament. But in LeShawna's eyes he found only a wicked gleam of something he wasn't sure he wanted to define, and in Noah's, fury blazed alongside nerves. It was hardly inspiring.

In Tyler's expression, on the other hand, there was a brightness that hungered for laughter, devoid of discomfort or malice. It shone solely with the spirit of the prank, and Cody felt his heart lift. Of course. He was taking the entire situation too seriously.

And as this revelation dawned upon him, Cody hatched the perfect answer.

"Me? Go with Noah?" he'd exclaimed, fanning himself in a stereotypical feminine manner. It was actually quite extraordinary how his entire demeanor had lifted with his joke, but it was lost on the others, for they hadn't even noticed his split-second hesitation. "Oh, would I ever!"

To Cody, the entire atmosphere seemed to have brightened. In even Noah's expression, an amused smile was struggling to define itself, and the stiff anxiety of his nerves had relaxed. Cody felt his heart swell with pride, thrilled at how well his response seemed to be working. It was pure genius.

Swept up in the fervor of his act, Cody had unthinkingly wrapped an arm around Noah and pulled him up close. Feeling the warmth of the body heat wrap around him, Cody playfully turned his head to meet Noah's eyes as a serene sense of contentment pulled his thoughts from the earth.

It was then that it had happened.

Noah's expression was frozen in the picture of terror. His dark skin was painted with the rouge of a deep blush, and a muscle twitched as he strained his neck in his efforts to pull as far away as possible. Cody had felt bewilderment begin to smolder within him again, for he could not, for the life of him, comprehend why Noah was reacting so extremely.

Then Cody's eyes locked with Noah's, and something broke. It was as if a channel had been forged between the two, pouring into Cody the strength of Noah's emotions. For in the deep chocolate of Noah's eyes, an intense discomfort and fear festered viciously, but they were of a variety only alien to him. It wasn't at all the unease of a person simply at the wrong end of a prank; it was something much deeper and more profound.

To Cody, it felt as if the world had fallen away. Something was changing within him, curling with the sympathy of Noah's distress. He was suddenly aware of how their breath came in synchrony, how something indefinable twisted his heart into knots. It had been sheer miracle that he'd managed to retain his nonchalant attitude.

-----------------------------------

Cody's gaze raked the star-dusted sky, lost deep in his thoughts. It seemed that Noah's expression was burned into his mind, each feature clearly defined before his eyes. Again and again, Cody searched them, but by each passing moment, he found himself more and more confused.

What had happened? Why was heart pounding the way it did? Why couldn't he think?

Suddenly, Cody stumbled, propelled backwards by the force of something large and round. He scrambled to regain his balance, but the palms of his hand scuffed the concrete as he fell. The volleyball bounced away, seeming to glare at Cody in disdain.

"Dude?" Trent called out, concern heavy in his voice. "Hey, are you okay?"

Cody blinked up at him, struggling to focus. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah."

"You sure? You seem kinda out of it."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine!" he chirped. "I'm just gonna head off to bed now, okay?"

And as he turned, the false smile slid from his face like mud, leaving behind a strange, stormy aura no one quite wanted to penetrate. Even Eva paused in her furious advance, deterred by the tempest she sensed was raging within him.

"Something is up with _him_," Tyler commented in a surprising burst of perceptiveness. The others murmured their concerned agreement.

-----------------------------------

**Okay, so I got a couple reviews packed full of constructive criticism a couple days ago, so I'm going to make a few changes. For one, I'm going to really crack down on OOC-ness, particularly in Noah; he's been drifting for these last couple chapters . . . XD I'll also start having less author's notes, and put them just at the end of the story. And starting next chapter, the chapters will be longer.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~ KiraKira-Kirimi**


	16. Les Aveugles

**Chapter 16 ~ Les Aveugles (The Blind)**

**----------------------------**

There. No one would find the plushie now.

Sighing in a mixture of relief and satisfaction, Noah stepped back to admire his handiwork. The plushie lay settled upon the rafters of a tiny storage closet in the uncharted corners of the Playa; cobwebs netted its shoulders, dust dimmed its beady little eyes, and Noah fancied that its gap-toothed smile seemed more pleading than mocking.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as Noah hefted the final touch into place with a grunt, and a long, sturdy plank quickly obscured the plushie from view like the last padlock on his secret. Perhaps it was a bit of an overkill, as the chances of anyone glancing up at the ceiling of a remote closet were about the same as a tsunami on Mount Everest, but still. It couldn't hurt to be too careful.

The light chord clicked its consent as Noah tugged on it, and the lightbulb flickered out.

----------------------------

The crash reverberated throughout the room, and Noah's eyes flew upwards in shock. For a moment, everything fell dead silent, save for Noah's startled breath. But then, the hazelnut mop of Cody's hair was just visible as he peered sheepishly around the door frame, a mortified expression attacking his features.

"What the _heck_ was that, Cody?" Noah exclaimed, his eyes wide with amused disbelief.

Cody's lips twitched in an apologetic smile. "N-nothing," he replied, but his flush deepened to extraordinary shades at his words.

Noah's left eyebrow curled in incredulity. "Nothing? I'm not deaf."

"Um . . ." Cody muttered, scuffing his toe against the floor.

"Yes?"

"I kind of . . . walked into the wall."

Noah blinked, utterly dumbfounded. "You walked into the wall?" he echoed. He could hardly believe his ears. This sort of thing was the essence of comedy shows and novels, and not everyday reality. Yet the evidence of the absurdity was staring him in the face; an abashed tone that wasn't quite a blush painted Cody's features, and a small bruise was already forming at the tip of his nose. Subconsciously, Cody rubbed it, as Noah continued: "How did you manage to do that?"

"I wasn't really paying attention, I guess."

Noah rolled his eyes with a dull chuckle. "Yes, Mr. Obvious. I daresay you weren't."

His gaze hardened, but Cody just blinked, either being oblivious or ignoring the unspoken question. A silence descended upon the room, yet it was more calculating than awkward. And apparently having already overcome his slight embarrassment, Cody met Noah's frown steadily. With a grin, he rubbed the tip of his nose again, as if the forming bruise was a smudge of dirt.

Finally, Noah sighed. "Can you still see straight?"

Cody's eyes sparkled with humor. As gruff a tone that Noah painted his words with, he knew full-well that it was just his was of asking if everything was alright. Because, of course, if Noah ever dared voice any concern for another living being, his reputation would be forever mutilated. "Yeah," Cody answered. "I can."

"Good. But you're not touching any chemicals until your nose learns not to be intimate with the wall."

A small chuckle escaped Cody's throat. It cut off with a high, embarrassing squeak, but he didn't seem to notice the way Noah's eyebrow arched in response. "Then, am I on casing duty again?" he replied.

"Sure." Noah gave a slight, one-armed shrug. "I need a tinfoil inner for this fountain."

"I'm on it!" Cody responded. He seemed to glow with pride of his usefulness, his chin lifting as he took the materials. Noah could not help a small, amused smile from tugging at the corner of his expression, but at the same time, this only appeared to delight Cody's sense of self-importance all the more.

However, before Cody even had the chance to comfortably arrange himself on the floor, a sharp knock resonated throughout the room.

The two glanced at each other, searching for some sign of comprehension in the other's eyes. But as blue met brown, all they saw was a reflection of their own puzzlement and surprise. The presence of the person outside was completely uninvited and unexpected.

Perhaps Noah had no evidence of who stood at the door, or what intentions lay there. As far as he knew, the location of the fireworks room was still unknown to everyone other than him and Cody, and he'd had no knowledge that the information had leaked. It could have very well been an innocent intern planning to use the room for storage, but upon hearing voices, had merely knocked.

But regardless, the moment Cody began to turn, a terrible sense of foreboding descended upon Noah like a black veil over his thoughts. Whoever stood outside was not welcome. Noah's heart twisted in a sudden wave of desperation, and without thinking, he leapt to his feet with a shout:

"Wait!"

Cody paused, turning to stare at him in shock. It was a struggle not to flush in embarrassment, yet somehow, Noah managed to suppress any evidence of his self-humiliation. He coughed. "I mean," he corrected himself. "You haven't done anything, so get to work. I'll answer it."

"Oh, okay," Cody answered, his expression brightening immediately.

And with Cody safely concentrated on the tinfoil, Noah pulled the door ajar to peer into the hall. What he'd expected, he wasn't quite sure. But it certainly wasn't _this_.

Outside waited a Playa employee, a maid to be exact. Her long, black dress brushed against her ankles and hugged her mid-upper arms with puffed sleeves, but the seams seemed a little too prominent to be real. A resemblance tugged at Noah's memory; she looked exactly like his youngest sister had two years ago on Halloween.

The girl's arms were tucked behind her as she stared nervously at the floor, her childish pigtails brushing the sides of her face. Noah frowned, not at all sensing the suspicious vibe he'd been expecting. The maid appeared to be completely innocent by his analysis, if a little nervous. Still, Noah wasn't ready to let his guard down completely.

"Yes?" he demanded.

At the sharp tone of his voice, the girl's gaze flew upwards in barely-suppressed terror. And then, as her eyes met his, all color drained from her face. "N-noah?" she stammered.

"That's me."

"Oh, u-uh . . . um . . ." The girl stammered, and her eyes dropped once more. Noah's expression hardened unsympathetically.

"What?" he snapped. "Spit it out."

The girl flinched at his words, a slight brush of color painting her cheeks. "I f-found something, sir," she murmured. "I think it's yours." Eyes still locked on the floor at her feet, the girl produced from behind her a dusty, cobweb-strewn object.

Noah's heart dropped like a stone. The plushie's eyes were brighter than ever as it glared at him from the girl's grasp, its mouth wide in a mocking smile. Noah could almost hear it laughing, no, jeering in his head, scorning him ruthlessly. Furiously, Noah snatched it.

"Where did you find this?" he demanded in a furious whisper, clenching the plushie's head in an unforgiving fist.

As his harsh note cut through the air, the girl gave a little start of surprise and opened her mouth as if to reply. But no words escaped her, and she dropped her eyes to floor, shaking her head frantically.

"Where?" Noah hissed once more.

But the girl just shook her head again, apparently struck mute in sheer terror. Stepping back nervously, she cast a fleeting glance in his direction, and fled the scene, kicking her skirt up around her heels.

Noah's gaze fell disdainfully to the plushie's unchanging expression, feeling his teeth grit in frustration. He couldn't believe Geoff had found the plushie _again_; Noah had thought it would be possible, yet it was in his hands once more. He groaned, realizing darkly that Geoff must have some connections in the security department, and that he'd seen Noah trying to hide the plushie.

He would have to use the jamming device much more often.

----------------------------

By some unseen miracle, Cody hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary of the entire exchange. In fact, he'd hardly noticed the exchange at all. His face was arranged in a pensive frown as his eyes raked the shine of the tinfoil once more, and his fingers brushed the corners thoughtfully. Yet, as much concentration he seemed to be focusing on the casing on hand, the tinfoil was entirely untouched.

Suddenly, Cody threw a cursory glance in Noah's direction. But it was hardly more than a flicker; his eyes had moved so fast, and he quickly pulled his gaze back to the foil in his hands. An unexplainable sense of anxiety welled up within his chest, but it was tinged with exhilaration and pleasure.

Cody chewed his lip distractedly, his gaze unseeing. He couldn't understand it. That morning, he'd felt a sudden thrill race through his veins at the mere thought of working on the fireworks with Noah beside him. When Noah's face had drifted through his thoughts, he'd been unable to fight back a wide, wild grin. And as his eyes had fallen upon his DS, thoughts of how Noah had helped him with Flame Insignia flooded his mind like a tempest of exhilaration and . . . longing.

Cody felt as if he wanted to go back to that day, and let Noah walk him through the level once more. He wanted to see Noah's ghost of a smile when he broke the chapter, and to feel the pride course through his very bones. But even stronger was the desire to know how Noah had broken the level in his own game. Where had he been? How long had it taken him? Had he needed any help (although Cody doubted it)?

The emotions pummeled Cody ceaselessly, racing through his thoughts like a slideshow of frustration. But by far the most distressing of all was the realization that none of these sensations were particularly new. Not only could he remember feeling extraordinarily desperate to work with Noah, or how anxious he'd been to get Noah to like him, but Cody realized he'd previously requited those very feelings with Gwen – not to mention countless other girls beforehand.

Cody clenched his first tightly, rumpling the tinfoil in the process. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to draw that final conclusion.

Suddenly, Cody jumped as Noah's voice broke through his concentration like a whip: "Hey, Cody!"

"Yeah?" he answered nervously. Yet even as he glanced up, he found he could not hold his gaze, as if meeting Noah's eyes would let Noah read his mind and the thoughts that lingered there. Hurriedly, he dropped his gaze to Noah's chin and forced a vague smile.

Thankfully, Noah seemed to be too preoccupied to truly notice Cody's anxieties. "I have to go," he said. "I, uh – I mean, Chris wants . . . to talk to me about some new legal stuff for the fireworks."

"Oh, okay," Cody replied with false cheeriness. "Uh, see you, then."

Perhaps Cody had been unable to look Noah in the eye, but his gaze lingered almost wistfully on the door long after Noah had left.

----------------------------

The small LED light of the jamming device flickered on, emitting a steady, red glow in the depths of Noah's pocket.

Noah lurked, crouched, at the edge of the back door like a prowling panther, with a steady, unforgiving frown adorning his face. His eyes raked the tree line, furtively searching for signs of other, unwelcome forms of human life. But even as his breath held in sleuth, he was met only with the rustle of a scavenging squirrel.

Having deemed the area secure, Noah discreetly began the slink out of the shadows and into the full glare of the sunlight. For a moment, he lingered by the wall stubbornly, unwilling to leave the protection of the stones. But then he took a deep breath, steadying himself, and raced from the cover of the Playa.

The plushie lay cradled in his arms like some sort of warped infant, flapping slightly in the breeze. But Noah's eyes were trained instead on the looming trash bin as it approached. And although it was stained with brown and black of various, mystery substances, and the smell was enough to send a skunk scurrying for its life, the very sight made Noah's spirits lift in hope.

This trash bin was only one of several trash bins located around the island, and this one in particular was in the midst of a crowd of employee residences and supply rooms. No campers ever ventured out this far, and even the few employees who used it refused to linger for the sake of their noses.

Best of all, with the jamming device on, Geoff would never think to search for the plushie there.

A triumphant smirk painted itself across Noah's face. His eyes rose slightly, and his brow knitted eerily under the shadows of his bangs. It was an almost symbolic ending.

The plushie bounced slightly upon its impact against the peels and plastic carpeting the bottom of the trash bin. Even as it settled, Noah noted with satisfaction that its new companions were already painting a grease stain upon its cheek.

"Adieu, loser." He could not help jeering, inanimate object or not.

Unfortunately, things did not exactly play out as he had planned.

Noah had hardly made it half-way back to the so-called 'fireworks room', when the erratic sound of running footsteps began to echo in his ears. He paused, straining to catch the direction of the sound.

Then suddenly, Harold rounded the corner, his breath coming in desperate wheezes as he ran. "Hey, Noah!" he cried out. Breaking off with a cough, he bent over in exhaustion and grasped at his knees.

Noah's face went slack. For there, hanging out of Harold's left hand by one arm, dangled the ever-incessant plushie. Grease and dirt smudged the felt alongside dust and cobwebs, but it did not in the least lessen his heavy disappointment at the sight.

"I found this," Harold wheezed, proffering the plushie. In his eyes, there was a deep bewilderment and a horde of unspoken questions that Noah did not want to face.

"It-it's not mine," Noah snapped. He crossed his arms and attempted to brush by Harold defiantly.

But Harold quickly sidestepped, nearly tripping over himself in the process, to block his path. "Yes, it is! See, here's your name." And he pulled a small tag from the plushie's collar. "'If lost, please return to Noah'."

Noah snatched at it, and groaned. Sure enough, scrawled in bold, red lettering across the cloth, lay the cause of his unsuccessful disposals of the toy. He couldn't believe he'd missed it earlier; it was such a simple solution, and Geoff didn't even need access to the security cameras.

"It's still not mine," Noah insisted, ruthlessly squeezing the plushie's midsection. "Why were you in the trashcan, anyways?"

"Hiding from Courtney, obviously," Harold retorted. "But what were you doing with a plushie? It _says_ your name."

"I said: it's not mine. It was – it was just a prank."

At his words, Harold's eyes suddenly grew wide in comprehension. "Oh, like about that Awake-a-Thon?"

"Exactly," he bluffed effortlessly. At the same time, a sense of deep-seated gratitude flowed through his veins, escorted by a slight tone of surprise. He had never expected to be thankful for the incident.

Now, if only there was as simple a solution for the rest of his matchmaking-related dilemmas as well.

Heaving a sigh, Noah hooked a finger through the plushie's tag. The fibers rubbed gently against his skin, as if attempting to pacify him, to beg forgiveness for their past tattling. But the time for apology was long gone. Noah jerked at the tag, feeling a thrill of satisfaction sing in him, as the tear of the cloth filled his ears.

Noah let a smirk tug at the corners of his lips as the label wilted in his hand, sequestered and benign. The leash was gone. No longer would he be bothered by it, and although the relief was not nearly as powerful as it once was, due the innumerable disappointing 'freedoms', the sense of liberation was definitely present.

"Here," Noah said curtly, holding out the plushie to Harold. "Go return this to the trash."

Harold glared at him. "I'm not your servant. Gosh!"

"No, but you disrupted my plans to get rid of it. Go, put it back."

"Do it yourself!" Harold snapped. And with the bristly air of a porcupine, he turned on his heel and stomped off in the other direction.

Noah sighed, letting the plushie hang limply from his grasp. Whatever respect for Harold he'd previously held, it had just vanished. Honestly, was it really that hard to retrace his steps a simple half-kilometer?

Okay, maybe it was. But still, if it hadn't been for Harold, the plushie would have never moved from its grimy, greasy tomb, and as it was, Noah would now have to risk the welfare of his nose once more to set it right.

This time, at least, Noah had enough sense not to linger by the trash bin in order to savor the end of the plushie. He'd already had plenty of farewells, thank you very much, regardless of whether or not they were really final. Now, he didn't even bother to listen for the trash's soft protests of their new companion before racing off as fast as his untrained legs would allow him.

Unfortunately, his senses had not quite recovered from their first exposure to the smell. As a result, Noah felt his head spin as the sweet stench threatened to overcome him in his weakened state. It clung viciously to his nostrils and the back of his throat, making his eyes sting and water. His very skin felt disgusting.

Alternately sneezing and swallowing in a vain, desperate attempt to rid himself of the stink, Noah stumbled blearily into the hall. He blinked furiously at the tears of protest that swam in his eyes, but his vision staunchly refused to clear. If Noah could, he would have groaned. But as it was, he couldn't spare the breath as he stifled yet another mouse-like sneeze.

He would have to file an official complaint later on. At the moment, however, he had other, more pressing matters to attend to.

For one, he had to rid himself of the awful stench that still persisted in its attack of his senses.

Noah swung right as he approached a fork in the hall, heading towards the kitchens; perhaps the savory goodness of some sort of snack would offer him salvation. A large bag of potato chips sounded good right about now.

----------------------------

"Darn it, Cody," Noah muttered, attempting to twist the doorknob with the only free limb he possessed – a pinkie. "Would it kill you to help me out a bit here? I brought a snack, although we'll have to eat in the hallway to keep away from the substances in there –,"

Noah cut off as the door grudgingly let out a click and swung open. But even his sigh of relief fell short as his eyes fell upon a remarkably uninhabited room. Cody's workspace was cluttered and disorganized – although lacking in all signs of even a single, complete casing – and the roll of tinfoil was nearly a foot shorter. But Cody himself was nowhere to be found.

Noah blinked, somewhat perplexed. Yet before he could even begin to start formulating hypothesis and assumptions, Noah spotted another distinct oddity. The waste bag had vanished.

Cody never took out the trash. In fact, Noah could not recall him having ever done much to clean or tidy at all. It was Noah's unspoken duty to put everything in its proper spot, to make sure that their space was workable. And beyond the puzzlement that buzzed in his thoughts, Noah admittedly felt a little put-out that Cody had taken his job.

But since when had taking out the trash become a crime? He couldn't remain upset about at Cody about that for long. Rather, he was more annoyed that Cody was absent and therefore unable to appreciate the gaucamole Noah had coerced the chef into giving him.

With an inward grumble, Noah carefully closed the tin in which the sauce sat and pushed it into a safe, vacant corner of the room. The salt could wait, but if the fireworks innards were left standing for too long, substance could be lost. Cutting a small square from the remaining tinfoil, Noah started on Cody's unfinished casings.

----------------------------

Cody gasped as the mind-numbing stench hit the back of his throat like a brick wall. Almost choking, he threw his hands to his nose in a desperate attempt to mask his face from the smell. It worked somewhat, if only to lessen the experience from excruciating to simply nauseating.

Cody cursed himself inwardly. He should have sensibly used the closer trash bin and spare his senses this torture. He could only hope that his nose would one day recover.

But of course, Cody was inwardly grateful for the magnitude of the stink; he could hardly focus on getting the waste bag in the bin, let alone the thoughts that had been dogging him. After Noah had left, a deathly silence had descended upon the room, leaving Cody with nothing to distract him. The whirlwind of emotions began to storm once more, and his heart pounded like a drum in his ears. And although the last words, the final conclusion, never once broke through his iron will, he could hardly feel the chill of the tinfoil beneath his fingers.

Cody had thought that maybe a little exercise would clear his mind. Thus, grabbing the waste bag, he had wandered off to the furthest trash bin he could think of.

But now that he'd chased the disturbing thoughts from his head, Cody almost wanted them back if it meant escaping this foul stench. One hand still wrapped tightly over his nose and mouth, he hefted the waste bag over his shoulder, prepared to toss.

That's when he noticed it.

Nestled at the bottom of the trash bin amongst wrappers, leftovers, dead animals, and various other mysterious objects of unmentionable levels of foulness, was a small plushie that had clearly endured much turmoil. It was dusty and tattered, and unknown stains smeared the felt. And if Cody wasn't mistaken, it was an exact likeness of himself.

Overwhelmed with curiosity, Cody dropped the waste bag on the ground beside him. Suddenly, the stench was bearable, as he reached down amongst the grime to lift out the plushie that rested there.

It _was _an exact likeness of him. The plushie had every one of his features; even the gap between his front teeth was completely proportional. He stared at it.

"That's really not something you see everyday . . ."

----------------------------

**I promised you longer chapters, didn't I? Now, there was something I wanted to say here . . . dang it. I can't remember. **

**I'll just settle for this: Go read the fanfiction Hello Hello on ! It's amazing! The entire story is written first POV from Noah, and he's so in-character; I was cracking up so much from his cynical, condescending tone, and I swear, I felt so stupid. I did have to look up half the things the "Noah" told me to . . . **

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	17. L'efin de Beaucoup

**Chapter 17 ~ L'enfin de Beaucoup (The Last of Many) **

-----------------------------

The last day.

The thought rang in Geoff's thoughts like a death sentence, endlessly echoing and ricocheting off his skull. He couldn't believe that the week had flown by so quickly. It felt as if only yesterday, Noah had confessed his deepest feelings for Cody, but now the deadline was looming, towering menacingly over him. And Geoff had absolutely no idea how he would ever pull it off. He needed so much more time. At this point, Geoff was cursing himself so violently for slacking off earlier that he was inventing words to express the full depths of his frustration.

But he hadn't given up yet. As long as there were still hours in the day, there was still hope that by some miracle, the end would fall into place. And when a person's romantic happiness was a stake, no opportunity should ever be ignored.

Geoff had held a private meeting with LeShawna and Bridgette earlier that morning to discuss what should be done. All three felt the pressure of the end mounting by each passing moment; it was all any of them could do to chase the grimace from their faces. It was not yet the time to mourn.

The three quickly agreed that one last trick was in order.

The question was: what trick? Faced with the truth of the end, it was clear that subtlety would be useless. There was far too much ground to cover, and they simply did not have the time that discretion required. That left the matchmakers with only one option.

The solution may not have been creative, nor particularly original, but it would do the job nicely. And of course, it was by far, the most amusing trick they would attempt. This was Geoff's contribution; it'd be nice to go out with a laugh, now wouldn't it?

-----------------------------

"So, Lestat or Louis?"

"Is that a trick question? Lestat," Noah replied curtly. "Louis spends his entire eternal life pining over what he lost and wallowing in self-pity and angst. It's pathetic, really. He doesn't even understand his so-called 'daughter'."

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, mercilessly assailing the Playa with its burning rays. The temperature easily reached numbers bordering 95 degrees Fahrenheit (35 degrees Celsius), and it was only made worse by the sweltering humidity. The air itself felt so heavy it was as if the gravity had sudden tripled, and there was little difference in the moisture of the pool versus the moisture of the atmosphere. The very trees seemed to have wilted.

But this was of little consequence for Noah and Cody, neither of whom was particularly inclined to venturing outside. The two were entertaining themselves considerably more comfortably in the air-conditioned shade of Noah's suite, thank you very much.

Cody frowned now, thumbing thoughtfully through the copy of _Interview with the Vampire_ that they found lingering at the bottom of Noah's bag. He hadn't shown Noah the plushie he'd found, although he couldn't explain why for the life of him. For some reason, he just felt it'd be better to keep it to himself. Besides, it'd probably been thrown away in the first place because whichever girl had owned it before had felt embarrassed by it, and would rather no one knew about it. And Cody believed it was his duty to respect his fans' dignity.

"Lestat?" he said now. "You sure? I mean, sure, I guess you're sort of right about Louis, but Lestat is...I don't know. Weird?"

Noah rolled his eyes. "Real specific, Cody."

"Hey, you know what I mean. Lestat is really flighty, and at least Louis spends a lot of his time thinking. He's pretty deep."

"Well -," Noah began. But before he could so much as draw a breath for the following thought, he suddenly paused. A staccatoed triplet of thumps echoed softly against his ears, almost inaudible over the _whirr _of the fan. And as if it needed to be any quieter, the sound seemed almost muffled – half-hearted, somehow.

"Noah?" Cody inquired. A bewildered expression had knit itself across his features, and he frowned at Noah uncomprehendingly. "What?"

Just then, the thud sounded again. This time, it was louder, more distinct, but nevertheless, it was nothing short of a miracle that it didn't get lost in the hushed expanse of Noah's suite.

Noah and Cody exchanged puzzled expressions. And as Noah's eyebrows lifted and Cody's furrowed, they seemed to be inverse reflections of one another, although they depicted the same emotions.

"I think someone's at the door," Cody said finally.

Noah's frown darkened, and he turned a cold eye on the entrance to the suite. But for once, his discontented demeanor was not imbued with suspicion. He knew full well that a knock of such timidity could not be characteristic of the Cupid-wannabes' strong-minded nature – and the strong lack of secrecy was just as unusual. Rather, the knocker was most likely only a culprit of forcing Noah to move from his very comfortable position on the couch. Which was still a very serious offense, mind you.

Noah groaned theatrically. "Couldn't you get it?" he grumbled. "I don't feel like it."

"Geez, Noah," Cody replied, his voice heavy in exasperation. But at the same time, he obediently pushed himself to his feet without a complaint. "Hasn't anyone told you that you're lazy?"

"Frequently."

Cody rolled his eyes, struggling to suppress a chuckle. Even as he pulled the door open, a small light of laughter was shining in his eyes and was only just barely buried beneath a mask of nonchalant curiosity.

"Yes?" he greeted.

A young maid much too adorable to truly be of a working age stared up at him. Her eyes were wide and fearful, like those of a terrified squirrel, but then, as her gaze locked with his, an expression of inexplicable relief crossed her face.

"Cody?" she inquired, her voice bright with something like hope. "Are you Cody, sir?"

Cody's eyes glowed. A smile had plastered itself across his face, and he could not help beaming broadly at the maid, even as she wrung her hands in distress. Sir? Now _that _was a form of address he could appreciate.

"Yup, that's me," he replied, drawing himself up the meet the profile of his new title. "What is it?"

"Erm," the girl began meekly. Her shoulders rose in an attempt to hide her face in collarbone as she swallowed and dropped her nervous gaze to the ground. "ThechefneedsafavorfromyouandNoah,sir. Sorrytobotheryou."

Cody had clocked that speech somewhere around two-hundred miles per hour.

But by some bizarre miracle, Cody had understood the gist of what the poor maid had been trying so hard to convey. "A favor?" he echoed. "Why?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know!" she squeaked, looking positively mortified.

Hastily, Cody assured her that it was quite alright. Yet at the same time, he found he could not feel irritated by her jumpy nature; there was something about her anxious expression and stature that would have made anyone want to hug and console her. Besides, who could be annoyed at someone who addressed them as 'sir'? "I was only curious," he insisted. "Really, Noah and I will go right now."

The maid looked dubious. "Are you sure? If it's too much hassle, I'll ask the chef -,"

"- It's cool," Cody cut her off, flashing her a dazzling grin. "Just let me get Noah."

The girl's expression did not change, but Cody wordlessly encouraged her with an even brighter smile. Only when the bottomless levels of anxiety in her eyes had finally lessened – although by just the most microscopic of degrees – did Cody finally tear his gaze away to draw back into the suite.

Noah was staring at him, his eyebrows almost brushing his hairline as they rested at their new heights. "You actually expect me to move," he stated. There was no mistaking the utter incredulity imbued in his tone.

Cody's grin took on a sheepish appearance, but it did not dim in the least. "Yeah, sort of," he replied.

Noah shot Cody a glare so scathing that it would have given an iceberg third-degree burns. But to the iceberg's credit, only Cody could have withstood the utter abhorrence that lingered in that stare – and not be affected by it at all. Cody knew Noah well enough to not take it so seriously; he'd long since come to discover that the initial anger would promptly vanish in approximately 3.56 seconds, if one would be so patient as to wait for the tide to pass.

As if on cue, Noah finally let out a heavy groan as he tore his gaze away. In a tremendous show of effort, he begrudgingly pushed himself off the couch, and, as if recovering from an immense surgery, he gingerly tested his weight on his legs.

"Fine," he grumbled, once assured that his legs were functioning well enough. "What exactly is it we're supposed to be doing?"

"Something for the chef."

Noah rolled his eyes. "I gathered that much, brainiac. Any idea what this 'something' is?"

"No," Cody answered. "But does it matter? You do owe the guy one for that guacamole earlier."

Noah said nothing for a moment. Then, heaving a heavy sigh, he answered in a tone laden with exasperation: "Didn't your teachers ever tell you not to volunteer until you know what it's _for_?"

"Not really," he replied with a shameless smirk. "But come on! It can't be that bad, can it?"

-----------------------------

"I'm still not quite sure how you talked me into this, Cody," Noah grumbled as he folded his arms in resentment. "Favors are extraordinarily overrated."

The two were wandering through the maze-like halls of the employees' wings, and both had long forgotten which way was out. Without the constant dog-like guidance of the maid, they would have been hopelessly lost in some mind-boggling hallway on the opposite side of the Playa. Even Noah was baffled.

By each passing moment, Noah's resolve hardened to never listen to Cody again – particularly when Cody was talking to creepy maids. Honestly, there was just something strange about that girl. No one was that shy, unless they'd been traumatized by some unfathomable terror. And in that case, they should be getting some sort of therapy, and not working for the cruelest television program in the country.

Noah heaved a heavy sigh. "This is so stupid," he grumbled.

A slight movement in the corner of Noah's vision suddenly snagged his attention. Glancing up, he saw the most peculiar expression adorning Cody's face as he visibly struggled to suppress a chuckle.

"What?" Noah demanded.

"Oh, nothing." But that maddening half-smile persisted, and Noah felt his frown darken suspiciously.

"Nothing, my foot. What's so funny?"

Cody shrugged, finally succumbing to the demands of his grin and letting himself beam without restraint. "I don't know," he replied. "But it's just kind of funny how you're complaining so much about this, but you're not exactly being stubborn."

Noah shot him a suspicious glare. "What's that supposed to mean?" But Cody just shook his head, sensibly choosing to hold his tongue. Regardless, Noah didn't need an explanation, and with an aggravated huff, he glanced away. "You have one messed up sense of humor, Cody," he snapped.

Cody opened his mouth to retort something heatedly (all in good humor, of course), but before he could even draw breath, the young maid broke in. "There it is," she chimed, gesturing at an unmarked door at the end of the hallway. "There's a large cake in there for dinner that the chef needs you to pick up."

"Just a cake?" Noah echoed incredulously.

"Y-yes," the girl muttered. "I hope you don't mind."

Catching the warning glare Cody shot furiously in his direction, Noah pursed his lips with restraint. "I didn't expect so little work. That's good." A heavy note of false cheeriness dripped off his words.

The girl flushed in what must have been paralyzing nerves, and Noah arched an eyebrow as he glanced back at Cody. _Happy?_ his gaze clearly read.

Cody grinned. _Very_.

The door squealed as it swung open, and Noah felt a certain kinship with this inanimate object that hated moving as much as he did. Unfortunately, it still didn't help make his unhappiness any less profound, which was duly expressed by the stormy glower plastered across his face.

Noah strode through the door, Cody close on his heels. Immediately, icy fingers of refrigeration scraped at whatever bare skin was exposed as the wave of chill washed over them. A shiver descended down Noah's arms, making all the hairs stand on end as if at attention. Struggling not to let his teeth chatter a racket, Noah cast a glance over his shoulder and saw Cody chaffing his arms together for warmth. Spotting his gaze, Cody grinned.

"Bet those guys out there are j-jealous right now, eh?"

Noah rolled his eyes. "I'm jealous of _them _right now. Let's just get this over with."

In the center of the room, upon a gleaming, stainless-steel counter, a large box sat waiting. It was much wider than it was tall, like that of a supermarket pastry, except that this box was about twice the size of any grocer's largest cake. Considering the amount of food the Playa Des Losers wasted on a daily basis in their interests of proving how successful a television program they were, Noah assumed that this was the cake they were to retrieve.

Working his fingers under the side of the box, Noah grunted. "You plan to help me anytime soon, Cody?" He lifted it slightly, but the box stubbornly slid off his fingers with a hollow _whump_.

Cody flushed somewhat. "Oh, of course!" he replied, flashing Noah a bright, hopelessly-conciliatory grin as he dug his own fingers under the other side of the box. "On three?"

"Sure. One . . . two . . . --."

The' three' never came. At that very moment, an ominous _click_ echoed throughout the room, seemingly magnified by the cold metal of the counters. Noah and Cody exchanged horrified glances. They'd heard that sound before.

Almost immediately, Cody was at the door, desperately rattling the knob. But to no avail. The knob turned easily in his hands, for it was not a lock holding the door in place, but something else entirely.

"Hey!" Cody called through the door, addressing the nameless maid who'd led them in. "Help! We're locked in!"

No answer came.

Blue eyes wide, Cody turned nervously to his last source of hope. "Noah, can you open it again – like last time?"

But Noah shook his head sadly, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. "No," he answered. "It's most likely bolted and stuck. I can only open an average lock." But his eyes were narrowed as he carefully surveyed Cody's expression.

This wasn't the first time they'd been locked in together, but it was definitely the first time Noah had ever seen such a strange reaction from Cody. Before, the area had been smaller, with less lighting, but then Cody had shown next to signs of fear or anxiety. In fact, he'd been almost excited by the prospect of 'adventure', as if he'd thought the whole thing was nothing more than a grand game. So why now, in a spacious, bright freezer, was he showing such desperation? What on earth would make Cody so frightened?

A dark thought crossed his mind, and Noah froze. What if Cody was suspicious? Goodness knows Geoff and the other matchmakers had been at it for so long, and that they hadn't been terribly discreet. It was entirely possible that Cody had picked up on something; he wasn't an idiot after all, and he could have very easily made that simple connection. Cody could know everything. Perhaps he'd known for a while, and was just forcing himself to stay Noah's friend, despite mind-numbing discomfort. And this situation could be the final straw.

Noah felt something squeeze at his heart like a vice. If this really was the end, he didn't know how he'd survive. Cody was the only one on the island that Noah could talk to with any degree of true friendship, the only one he could really joke and play with. He was the only one _ever_ that Noah had been attracted to emotionally as well as by hormones. He was probably a better friend than all of Noah's 'real' friends back home put together. Noah just couldn't lose him.

"Cody --," Noah began, fully intending to demand what he knew, to end all speculations right then and there.

"-- is that mistletoe?"

"What?" Noah followed Cody's gaze to where a pair of yellow-green leaves were taped to the ceiling, nestling between them a clutch of white berries. His face fell slack. "Oh, my goodness. Get your seasons straight, Geoff."

"What?" The strangest expression of utter bewilderment crossed Cody's face.

"Nothing," Noah replied curtly, quickly arranging his features in the most emotionless expression he could. "Yes, that's mistletoe. It's a parasite actually, and probably not even the traditional kind; the mistletoe that is typically used in Christmas celebrations grows in Eurasia, not North America." He hoped Geoff could hear him.

"Really?" Cody answered, still somewhat perplexed. "But what's it doing here?"

Noah's gaze shot upwards. Cody didn't know? Had he really not drawn that apocalyptic conclusion? Their eyes locked, and in Cody's expression, Noah saw a genuine confusion that could never be forced. Noah felt the corner of his lips draw upward in an irrepressible smile as his hands, balled into fists from the force of sheer nerves, relaxed once more. All was not lost.

Although, Noah still had no idea why Cody had panicked earlier.

"So," Cody was saying, stepping anxiously clear of the mistletoe. "How are we getting out of here?"

"Well, not through that inexplicable lock, that's certain . . ."

-----------------------------

Outside, Geoff couldn't take it anymore. He let out a snigger. Thankfully, the door was heavy enough to hold back the minuscule sound, and his lack of restraint went unnoticed. But seriously: "inexplicable lock"? It was amazing how a genius could be thwarted with the simplest of plans.

Geoff sighed, readjusting his weight against the door. "Out-muscle the nerds" (no offense to them) was more like it. But he still owed that maid thirty bucks.

-----------------------------

Noah paced the room, his footsteps echoing off the walls and tables. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest, but he still couldn't hold back the shivers that racked his body from time to time. Cody was worse. Curled up in the corner, his legs drawn up to his chest, Cody was visibly struggling to not let his teeth chatter. And he was failing horribly.

Had it been anyone else to be locked in with, Noah would have suggested using their body heat to keep warm – a fact he was sure Geoff was counting on. However, there was no chance in the world that he would snuggle with Cody, in all interests of pride and appropriateness. And thankfully, Cody hadn't suggested it either.

Just then, Noah fell still, and the echoes of his footsteps faded into silence. His gaze had just fallen on the most obvious solution to their predicament, and he could not believe he hadn't noticed it before. Above a cold counter at the end of the room, glaring sunlight poured in through a window. It was latched from the inside, and although Owen wouldn't have been able to fit through it, neither Noah nor Cody would have any trouble. Best of all, a tall, geographically-inappropriate palm tree brushed against the side of the glass, just begging to be climbed.

A broad smirk adorning his features, Noah dropped his eyes to meet Cody's earnest, curious gaze. "When was the last time you climbed a tree?" he asked.

-----------------------------

It had been silent uncomfortably long. Geoff frowned, his ear pressed nervously against the side of the door, listening intently for some sign – any sign – of life within.

As the silence pressed on, Geoff's imagination jumped into overdrive. What if they were unconscious? Perhaps they couldn't breathe. No, he corrected himself sharply. That was impossible; there was plenty of ventilation in the room. He was just being silly.

Or was he? The room was frigid. They could have caught hypothermia and could be on the very brink of death right now. Geoff swallowed, forcing himself to stay calm. In his head, he repeated the mantra to himself: _they're fine; they're fine; they're fine._ But what if they weren't? It'd been long enough for a person to catch hypothermia, hadn't it?

"Get a grip, dude," Geoff muttered to himself, tightening his grip on the door. "If you open this now, you'll them out, and it'll all be ruined. Wait."

But the anxiety was welling up inside him in, gaining force with each passing second. His heartbeat grew erratic, and finally he couldn't take it anymore. He caved to his quixotic nature and opened the door.

The room was empty.

-----------------------------

The heavy humidity of the outside atmosphere was a welcome sensation against Noah's cold-bitten skin. At the same time, it was the _only_ welcome sensation coursing through his body at moment; his shirt clung uncomfortably to his chest, lethargy gripped at his limbs, and his palms stung in protest to the scraggly bark of the palm. Inwardly, he groaned. That was far more than enough physical exercise for this week.

Unfortunately, Noah knew only too well that today was the last day of their one week agreement. Geoff was not going to stop there, and unless Noah could think of a way to avoid him and his accomplices, he was going to be in for a very long day.

Cody, entirely oblivious, was watching Noah's clumsy escape-via-tree with amusement, his cheeks still painted with a rosy blush from the indoor cold.

"When was the last time _you_ climbed a tree?" he teased.

Noah cast a dreary gaze in his direction. "Oh, shut up," he retorted. "At least I was quieter than you were."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Noah shrugged, carefully disguising a smirk. "Just that if we were in a dangerous situation in which stealth was critical, _I'd_ survive and _you_ wouldn't."

Now it was Cody's turn to disguise a smirk. "Do I smell a _challenge_?"

"I daresay you do."

Their eyes met, and the sparks of competition flew in the humid air. Noah's smirk was especially prominent, for inspiration was coursing through his veins. A cunning plan was hatching, and he knew that Geoff wouldn't bother him for the rest of the day.

"What are the terms?" Cody inquired.

"Simply this," Noah answered, his dark gaze unusually bright. "For the rest of the day, you must avoid say . . . Geoff, Bridgette, and LeShawna. If you do, you win."

"The prize?"

Noah paused, pondering for a moment. Now, what would _really_ motivate Cody? "100K on Kosmic Kaos," he answered.

It was impossible to miss the excited sparkle dancing in Cody's eyes. "200K."

"It's a deal."

Take that, Geoff.

-----------------------------


	18. Complet Oubli

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 18 ~ Complet Oubli (Complete Oblivion)**

-----------------------------

There was something strangely elated about Noah's air the next morning. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, his chin high and thrust to the world, or maybe it was the way his gaze raked the room with an arrogant sharpness that was distinctly more profound. His book was nowhere to be found, as if he felt it more important to meet the eyes of each and every camper and employee he encountered, to tell them wordlessly with his pompous expression: _I won_.

Whatever it was, Noah was attracting stares like flies to honey; he could feel their eyes burning into his back as he strutted past the pool deck. Even when he turned a corner and vanished from sight, their unspoken question echoed cavernously in his mind. The slightest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. Let them wonder. The entire escapade was finally over, and somehow, their utter confusion was simply too perfect an ending.

Of course, there were a few stares that followed him not with confusion, but with a deep-set regret. Their eyes were heavy and shaded, and the usual sparkle had faded with their smiles. Noah made sure to pay special attention to these gazes, casting a bright, mockingly-sympathetic glance in their general direction. His accompanying smirk was sharp and unforgiving, and the sorrowful stares withered under his merciless expression.

Noah strode into the empty dining room, letting the welcome scent of warm syrup and butter wash over him like a soft blanket. He cast an approving glance towards the buffet as he turned towards his usual seat by the tall, yawning windows in the back of the room.

The problem was: his seat was already taken.

Noah reached the table in three enormous strides, a furious air whipping around him like a flame. His eyes smoldered at the groundling who would _dare_ steal his spot, but the gaze he received in return did not falter.

Geoff grinned, casually tossing a stray strand of sun-kissed blonde hair out of his eyes. "Hey, man," he greeted. "'Sup?"

"Well, _apparently_, you're sitting in _my _seat," Noah retorted in a remarkably civil tone. "Would you care to tell me why you took it into your foolish, idiotic thoughts to do so?" Of course, 'civil' was a relative term.

But Geoff simply laughed, lifting a hand as if he were physically trying to push away Noah's fury. "Calm down, dude," he wisely advised. "I just wanted to talk, 'kay?"

"About what? In case you haven't noticed, the week is over. You _failed_." And as the words left his lips, Noah felt a surge of excitement and empowerment well up within him. His expression glowed with conceit – yet in his chest, there was something painful as well, something that reflected a heavy regret he refused to display.

"Yeah, man, I know," Geoff sighed, his eyes mirroring the pain in Noah's heart. "But that's kind of what I wanted to talk about. You wanna sit?"

Noah pursed his lips stubbornly, but resigned himself to taking the chair across the table, as far away as possible from the feet Geoff had propped up on the surface. Crossing his arms, he surveyed Geoff with a suspicious, scrutinizing glare that seemed almost haughty with his one arched eyebrow. "Well?"

"Could you be any more tense, man?"

"Oh, my bad." Sarcastically, Noah stretched his arms out before him, his fingers entwined as he separated his shoulder blades in a grandiose display. Once his back was relaxed and at ease, he leaned backwards and mimicked Geoff's overly-comfortable pose. "Happy?"

But Geoff took this criticism remarkably well, laughing even as Noah imitated his lax, care-free expression. "Yeah, that's I'm talking about!"

"Splendid. Now, would you care to get to the point?"

"Well . . ." Geoff peered at Noah in a sidelong glance, a small smile quirking at the corner of his lips. "Are you _sure_ you don't want to just try asking him out --?"

"Shut up!"

Startled, Geoff jumped. Noah was hastily fumbling through his pockets, his expression livid as he cast the king of all death glares in Geoff's general direction. Noah's face seemed to have gone strangely white, but it clearly didn't stop him from muttering a surge of vicious obscenities under his breath. Finally, he withdrew a fist from his right pocket, his fingers clenched tightly around a small object.

"Could you have made it any _easier_ for Chris to ruin my life?" Noah demanded, waving the fist in Geoff's face. Nestled in the center of his palm lay a familiar black circle, its minute LED light glowing the scarlet red of Noah's anger. "If you're going to bring that up, warn me beforehand! I'd rather not have this on national television!"

"Oh, yeah." Geoff felt as if all the air had been knocked out of him, but still he managed to flash Noah a weak, pacifying smile. "Sorry about that, dude. I kinda forgot."

"Whatever. Just get on with it already."

Geoff scratched the back of his head somewhat sheepishly, suddenly a little self-conscious. "I wanted to ask you if there was any chance you might still give it a go – you know, with Cody?"

"Not at all, Geoff," Noah retorted. "I didn't spend the entirety of this past week evading your tactics for nothing."

"But it's for your own good, man!"

"For my own good?" Noah snorted, rolling his eyes in profound disbelief. "I don't see how participating in your little _game_ was for my own good."

"Game?" he echoed.

Noah peered at him out of the corner of his narrowed eyes, but there was no humor in his expression at all. "Yes, game. Don't pretend you weren't having fun humiliating me and seeing how you could toy with my feelings. It was disgustingly obvious."

"But, dude, I wasn't!"

"Oh, forgive me if I don't believe that."

Geoff let out a sigh, and when he opened his mouth once more, his tone was unexpectedly calm. "Man, listen," he implored, patience dripping off his very words. "I'm no sadist like Chris. I don't like humiliating people, and I didn't think I was embarrassing you."

"Oh, please. I made it rather obvious."

"Well, no, you kind of didn't," Geoff disagreed. "I thought you were just being lazy and stubborn, you know? And that you were just too scared to get up and make a move on Cody. I thought you just needed a push to get you on your feet, to teach you how to just take a chance. It would make you happier."

Noah's expression did not change, although his eyebrows lifted just a fraction of an inch. "You really believed I was just nervous?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"Despite how clearly unhappy I was throughout the week?" he curtly pointed out.

"Sure." Geoff shrugged, his shoulders lifting as if to relieve himself of an invisible burden. "I mean, you kind of just needed to loosen up. You just don't get how totally amazing a girl- I mean, boyfriend, can be, dude." A sheepish grin shone in his eyes, an apology glimmering softly there.

But it was beyond Noah's attention; his gaze swept the ceiling intently, as if seeing something there in the rafters that no one else could. A scowl masked his expression, forehead furrowed and eyes narrowed, but without the undertones of malice or frustration.

After a prolonged moment of strange, discordant silence, Noah let out a heavy sigh and wrenched his gaze downwards to meet Geoff's. "I'm aware of how 'amazing' it can be," he stated, apparently – and quite unexpectedly – having caught every word. "I've heard plenty about the beauty of romance, and I won't deny that I did, to some extent, hope that you might succeed. But honestly, I was content with watching Cody from afar. I didn't want to risk anything; the last thing in the world that I could have ever wanted was for him to think me disgusting."

"But what if he's 'the one', and you just totally passed it right up?"

Noah shrugged faintly, but the movement was so vague and barely-noticeable that it seemed more like a nod of acknowledgement or agreement. "Then I passed it up. Your point? I'm simply not one to dwell on the 'coulda, shoulda, woulda' issues in life."

"Dude, you were so upset when you first told me about it. Why all the drama then?" Geoff inquired, unable to disguise the note of utter mystification that sang in his voice. "I mean –,"

"No," Noah broke in sharply, cutting off the unspoken question. "I still do have those feelings for Cody, at no weaker a level than you previously thought – probably stronger, in fact. However, the idea with being with him is a completely different concept. It's a much taller hurdle, and I'd never held much hope of clearing it in the first place. I needed to tell someone back then, that's all; it's difficult after a while, constantly wanting to remark on his laugh, or his movements, whatever, but not being able to if I'm to keep it a secret. I felt oppressed, I suppose."

"I still don't get it, man. You didn't want to be with Cody at all?"

"Not quite; it's more I'd convinced myself that it was impossible. I never held any of that expectation; instead, I focused on else. It would have been nice to be with him, but that's honestly not the only aspect of caring for someone. I'm more than content spending time with him, laughing with him, and being there for him, whether he is aware of the truth of my feelings or not." Noah's tone was soft, his eyes flitting upwards once more.

Geoff frowned slightly, puzzled by the strange sense of detachment that was enveloping him. His gaze darted over Noah's expression, and in heartbeat, he saw that Noah's thoughts were just barely tethered to earth; a hazy, glazed air had spread across his features, and the mild, near-awestruck note in his voice was distinctly that of a person who'd just come to understand another shade, another depth of himself.

"That's deep, man," Geoff murmured, more to his hands than anyone else.

"Hmm?" Noah's eyes slid from the ceiling. "Oh. Yes, thanks." He stared ahead unblinkingly, but with a vacant and unseeing appearance, as distant as the moon.

Somehow, the very air of the room seemed different to Geoff. Although nothing had physically changed, something about it was brighter – less shadowed, to some extent. It felt smaller, in a way he couldn't describe, and at the same time, it was somehow both more concrete and less substantial than before. For once, he didn't know whether to smile or frown.

He settled on a cough, drawing Noah's glassy eyes to his by the sound. "So, uh," he mumbled. "I guess that's that, dude. Just . . . where did Cody go yesterday? We spent, like, hours looking for him, but we couldn't find him anywhere."

A small smile finally cracked at Noah's lips once more, and an amused sparkle broke through the fog in his eyes. "It was simple, honestly. I bet him 200K on Kosmic Kaos that he wouldn't be able to evade the three of you for the rest of the day." The smirk grew. "By far, that was the best 200K I ever spent."

Subdued by the sudden, inexplicable transformation of the room, Geoff was only just barely able to manage a smile somewhat reminiscent of his usual grin. His gaze dropped to his hands, his feet absentmindedly scuffing the floor. But the tone of their typical banter hadn't vanished; perhaps it was softer, a little more subtle, but the mockery, the humor: it was all undeniably there.

Geoff pushed himself up from the seat, his vertebrae cracking as he stretched. "Well, great job, man," he said. "Last week was pretty awesome; too bad it didn't work out with you and Cody."

"Yeah," Noah answered vaguely. "Too bad."

-----------------------------

However, merely four floors above them, a wild storm was brewing. The heavy rainclouds of confusion were mounting, swirling into menacing gray columns of smoke-like haze. Electricity crackled in the air, charged by frustration and building into bolts of pure anguish. The torrential downpour, the tears of the heavens, had not yet begun, but the rapidly-darkening clouds held a terrible promise.

Cody held his face in his hands, staring fixedly at the soft, beige carpet at his feet, as if it held the all the solutions to his looming predicament. His eyebrows were furrowed, his forehead creased in anxiety, and his lower lip was raw and bruised from hours of worrying. The very air around him felt heavy and dark, and so thick with nerves that it could have been touched.

Cody had never believed the danger his own thoughts could have imposed; he'd never understood the harm he could inflict on himself without moving a finger. And yet, by each passing moment, he regretted more and more deeply that he'd ever accepted Noah's challenge. Having spent the better part of the previous day evading the notices of Geoff, Bridgette, and LeShawna, Cody had been left alone to his own devices, whittling away at the hours second by second, minute by minute. And unfortunately, by each second, each minute, the dark, unwanted thoughts he'd worked so hard to banish in the first place began to creep upon him once more, slowly consuming the entirety of his mind.

In the vicious grasps of his own solitude, Cody was battered with repressed feelings that were better left unfelt, by questions better left unquestioned. His heart pounded erratically, and the very vibrations made his stomach tremble and quell from the nerves. His fingers began to curl into fists as he attempted to steady his breathing – and everything else – and carefully, as if the very thoughts might cause the apocalypse, Cody let the words flash through his mind:

_I might have a crush on Noah_.

But the sky didn't fall; the fires of Hell didn't break loose. The fan _whirred_ softly overhead, complacent and oblivious to the storm of his thoughts, and, somewhat reassured by the lack of a sudden dystopia, Cody took a deep, shuddering breath.

_I have a crush on Noah_.

It wasn't a question, and it wasn't a theory; it was a fact. The feelings were clear, undisguised, and they simply could not be ignored; Cody was no stranger to the way his heart soared, or to how a smile plastered itself from ear to ear. He'd felt that exhilaration before. But he was alien to the terror and confusion it wreaked in his mind.

If he liked Noah, did that mean he was gay? The very thought was enough to make Cody want to rip out his emotions – all of them – from his heart and run as far away as physically possible. It wasn't that he was disgusted by the concept, or that he was against homosexuality itself. No; he was frightened, but of something beyond the meaning of his attraction.

He was scared of his future.

Cody was no idiot; he was quite aware of the adversary that homosexuality was met with on a daily basis. He saw the stereotypes, the discrimination, the maltreatment, in every aspect of life. There were teenagers fighting to bring their significant other to prom, and there were others that were bullied and harassed to the point they couldn't even attend school anymore. He'd heard the derogatory, homophobic remarks echoing in the very halls of his own high school – and even he, himself, had called many a less-likeable homework assignment "so gay". There were horror stories upon horror stories about how a young adult, after years of struggling with the oppression of hiding his or her sexual orientation, had come out to family and friends, only to be cast away and rejected by the very people he or she loved. And that wasn't to mention that poor kid who'd gotten _murdered _last year in California by a fellow classmate.

Cody didn't want that kind of life. He didn't want to have to fight for his right to love, didn't want to have to evade attacks on his emotional and physical self. He couldn't imagine coming out to his friends, after years of Friday-night sleepovers and "you'll get a girl someday"'s. The very idea of admitting his feelings to his heavily-Christian family made his chest clench and his stomach churn like a storm-tossed sea.

And yet – Cody didn't want to ignore it. Nothing could make his heart soar quite like the hours he spent at Noah's side. He couldn't imagine bantering with anyone else in the same way, and his world fell away when their eyes met. Noah's laugh, as dry and cynical as it may be, almost made it worth all the hatred and pain he would face.

The confusion in Cody's chest festered and brewed, seeping through his veins to the very tips of his fingers and the ends of his toes. But yet it still grew in waves, rolling in his mind like an ocean. The pressure mounted as the emotions pummeled his bones, and Cody bit back tears of the sea that threatened to overwhelm him. His nails dug sharply into his palm; his face contorted in heart-wrenching agony as his breath came in heavy, ragged gasps. Cody's lower lip trembled, only just barely damming the desperate tempest within.

His fingers brushed again his cheek, and when he drew his hand away, he saw moisture glimmering there by the soft glow of his laptop. Eyes drawn by the gentle light, his gaze turned to linger unseeingly on the flickering screen.

The aching sense of loneliness tore at his mind. Of all the people he held dear to him in the world, not one of them could know of this issue. Not one of them would be able to understand his pain and confusion, and one of them could offer him comfort or solace. But yet, Cody couldn't survive on his own; he needed another's compassionate counsel, as sincerely as he needed the air in his lungs. What he wouldn't give to let his heart pour out its troubles without fear of consequence or retaliation, in a place where he'd soon be forgotten –!

Oh, he was an idiot.

Cody's typically-nimble fingers crashed onto the keyboard with all the tenderness of a rampaging rhino. The laptop protested his brusque touch with an irritated _beep_, but Cody paid it no heed. His thoughts were already tumbling in his head, almost unintelligible, and characters were racing across his web browser.

It felt like a decade had passed – or perhaps it wasn't even a second – before the page he was looking for unfurled itself across his screen. The soft scheme of lime green and white glowed tenderly against his face, reflecting in his wide, hopeful eyes, and the faces of the friendly icons made the weight on his chest lighten ever-so-slightly. The banner splayed across the top proudly proclaimed the site: _Woohoo! Answers_

Cody's fingers were already flying, unleashing a torrent of words. Absently, he chewed on his lower lip, but by each passing sentence, the weight in his chest lightened a little more.

-----------------------------

"Don't forget to say the streaks! It's _essential_ to that hairstyle!"

"I got it already," Beth assured Lindsey, gesturing at the computer screen before her. "I think we're done with this question."

"Okay. What else is there?"

Scanning the home page, she glanced at the most recent questions with a cursory gaze. "Let's see . . . um, 'my dog won't listen'; 'math help'; 'I think I'm in love with my friend' . . . ."

"Ooh!" Lindsey squealed, her eyes suddenly shining like stars. "Do that one! It's so cute!"

Beth grinned, and the light of the screen shone on her braces. Selecting the question with a curt, rapid tap of her forefinger, she dragged up the page of aforementioned 'cuteness'.

"_Oh please, help me,"_ the question read.

"_My friend and I have spent a lot of time together, and we have so much fun. We hang out every day for almost the entire day and play video games or talk about books and stuff. We also worked on a big science project together, and I've never had so much fun with anything fire-related (I'm kind of scared of it)._

"_But lately, I realized I can hardly stop smiling when I'm around him. I want to know more about him (but not in a stalker-ish way!). I'm also really scared of talking to him right now, because I'm so confused. _

"_I really want to impress him, so I catch myself showing off a lot. Aw man, I'm rambling._

"_He's really nice to me, even though he has a hot temper. Although we've had one major fight, he apologized quickly._

"_We're kinda similar, and I'm really freaked. Am I gay?! What should I do?! _

"_Please please please help! _

"_Thanks,_

_The Codester." _

A dazed silence fell, cloaking the two in shaken bewilderment as incoherent, frantic thoughts raced through their heads. Beth glanced up at Lindsey, her wide, brown eyes seeking answers in Lindsey's soft blue. But, as it was to be expected, Beth found nothing there but a blank stare as uncertain as her own, and whatever sense she could have made became lost in the haze of Lindsey's expression.

Swallowing heavily, Beth somehow managed a tiny squeak of a sentence: "That's still really cute, right?"

"Totally!" Lindsey answered, nodding vigorously. A small smile began to creep back up her lips, lending a dull sparkle to her brightening eyes. "I have a gay friend back home, and he's the _sweetest_!"

"Really? I'm so jealous! I always wanted a gay friend!" A wave of relief seemed to wash over Beth as she flashed Lindsey a nervous grin of her own. "Let's tell him to go for it?"

"Uh-huh! Maybe you should give him your e-mail? Then you can have a gay friend, too!"

Beth giggled, shaking her head in a rather ethical response. "No, I don't think that'd be right." Then she paused to shoot a calculating stare back at the screen, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Although . . . that name. It seems familiar somehow."

"I know exactly what you mean!" Lindsay eagerly rejoined. But suddenly, she fell silent as the excited light faded from her eyes. "Wait, no I don't. What do you mean?"

"Never mind. I must have imagined it."

-----------------------------

**I have officially reached a new level of dorkiness.** **XD Honestly, I'm wondering if anyone noticed the little 'coming of age' theme I had earlier in this chapter? It's okay if you didn't; that means you have a life, and don't look for literary meaning in simple fanfiction like I do! **

**Thanks for reading, as always.**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	19. Je ne Suis pas Seul

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 19 ~ Je ne suis pas seul (I am not alone)**

--------------------------

**A/N: There are a few brief moments in this chapter that are rated T for language. **

The vivid sunlight danced upon the screen, teasingly catching the glass in its shining embrace as its mask of light concealed the image from view. Undaunted – or rather, too intent on his task to really notice – Cody bent closer to the screen as fiery concentration smoldered in the soft blue of his narrowed eyes. His right hand instinctively cupped the side of his cell phone as a fortress against the bombardment of light, but his eyes could not adjust to the contrast. The words on the screen eluded his grasp, allied as they were with both the light and the dark.

Cody let out a soft groan of frustration. Today, of all days, had to have been the worst possible time for the forces of day and night to finally join together and decide to harass him instead. Perhaps he should have been flattered that they found him so _apparently_ amusing, but he couldn't help but to wish that they could continue fighting each other for just one more day – at least until he figured out what to do.

Cody's question had gone up on _Woohoo!_ _Answers_ a mere couple hours ago, and yet, answer upon answer had already begun to flood his inbox like an incoming tide. Friendly wisdom raced through the channels of the internet, advice poured in on the backs of compassion, and support danced in the sea of e-mails. If only the light – and the darkness – would let him read it.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Cody hunched over the web-enabled cell phone in an attempt to use his own shadow to chase away the blinding sunlight. The words swam mockingly in his vision, but he could just barely make them out. He had sixteen new replies to his question. Perhaps it was admittedly not quite the flood of answers he'd anticipated, but there was no saying that the simple sixteen wouldn't hold all the advice that he needed.

His heart pounding fit to burst, Cody selected the first response: the one that had been sent mere seconds after he'd first posted the question. His fingers trembled from sheer nerves as the progress bar filled at a painstaking pace, pixel by pixel – or so it seemed to Cody's panicky thoughts.

After what felt like a decade, the page scrolled itself out on the screen.

"_Wow,"___the response read. _"u freak homo. go back 2 where u fags belong – in hell."_

Cody's breath seemed to have stopped. It was as if a heavy weight had been dropped on his chest, snapping his ribs and rendering him immobile under its oppressive shadow. His heart had dropped to his toes, and his stomach began to churn viciously.

He should have known. Of course he'd be met with hatred and opposition. What was the difference between revealing his feelings online and coming out to the real world, anyway? Nothing. There was absolutely no difference. How could he have expected support or comfort from strangers any more than he could have expected from his own friends? It was irrational, wistful thinking, and the evidence of his ignorance was staring him in the face. He was hated online, seen as disgusting, just as he had anticipated he would have been hated by the rest of the world had he confessed directly.

_Freak. Homo. Fags._ The words echoed ominously in his head, enveloping his thoughts in a dark shroud of fear. Bile rose in his throat, driven upwards by the sheer force of his nerves. He couldn't shake the words from his mind, and by each passing moment, the echo reverberated and grew to a final sfortzando: _Hell._

Whatever the Bible said about gays going to Hell in the afterlife, Cody couldn't have ever felt it more obsolete than he did now. Hell when he died? So what? The pain and hatred he felt now – wasn't that Hell?

Cody bit his lip, fighting back the burning sensation that had begun to grow at the back of his eyes. He wasn't even sure if there was much point in reading the other responses. The utter abhorrence laden in the two simple sentences of the first were more than enough to make his despair fester like a gaping wound, and he knew there wasn't much more he could take.

Thus, Cody wasn't quite sure what gave him the strength to scroll down, to forward the page to the second reply. His fingers seemed to have disconnected from the rest of his brain, unfaltering even as his thoughts spun and crashed. He swallowed, his eyes wide from anxiety.

"_I can't believe it!"_ the next answer began.

Cody felt his heart drop even lower.

"_That's totally sick, dude!"_

The burning in his eyes intensified, and his vision started to blur.

"_You've got so much courage. Shit, man, you're awesome."_

Cody's breath hitched in his throat. He hardly dared believe that he'd read it correctly, that the words were really there. But it was no trick of the light. There were no undertones of spite or disgust; it was simply supportive, in a way that Cody had never believed could exist.

Once more, tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but this time, they were mingled with unmistakable light of relief. Perhaps there was hope – hope that he'd find acceptance, that there would be more like this one who could feel empathy for him and his feelings. Perhaps there was a chance that he could find enough support amongst a sea of hate to survive.

Oh, and he could.

The next ten responses were filled with nothing but kindness and friendly advice. They all urged him to take a risk and to tell Noah the truth; some gave him advice on how to confess, while others simply assured him it was perfectly fine to love his male friend. One memorable contributor, by the name of Beth, advised him to go for it, all the while likening him to an "adorable puppy".

Although, he wasn't quite sure what to make of the thirteenth reply, which proclaimed: _"Aww! Don't hold back; it sounds like you've found the girl of your dreams."_

The rhythmic echo of footfalls brushed softly against his ear, but Cody was so absorbed in the minute screen of his cell phone that he hardly heard them at all. That is, until a familiar, dry tone addressed him:

"Good grief, Cody. If you get any closer to that cell phone, you'd be inside it."

Cody's head shot up so quickly that he very nearly developed a case of whiplash. Rubbing his neck tenderly, he met Noah's inquisitive expression with wide, terrified eyes. "H-hey, Noah," he squeaked, his voice breaking ever-so-slightly.

Noah's right eyebrow arched delicately as he took in Cody's deer-in-the-headlights appearance. Unable to resist a small smirk, he peered curiously over Cody's right shoulder. "What are you so interested in, anyway? A text message from Gwen's bra?"

Cody's features flushed rapidly. "No!" he retorted. "It – it's nothing."

"Really? Let me see."

"I said it was nothing!" Unfortunately, he was betrayed by his blush, which had taken on the remarkable tone of a cherry.

Noah rolled his eyes, his smirk stretching in obvious amusement. "You know, I might believe you if you'd let me see," he remarked.

"N-no, thanks, really!" Cody hastily replied. He snapped his cell phone shut, shoving into his pocket and safely out of sight. "It really doesn't matter, really."

"Well, I _really_ don't believe you if you _really _don't show me what you were _really _looking at _really_ intently."

"What?"

"Nothing, _really_."

Cody blinked, bewildered by Noah's excessive use of the word. Yet at the same time, he somehow understood that it was humor at his expense; he'd heard that mocking tone more than few times before. Suddenly seeming to find his toes oddly intriguing, Cody dropped his eyes to the ground. "It was nothing important," he whispered once more.

Noah cast him a lingering, long-suffering glance, his mouth set in a disbelieving scowl. Cody flinched, as if sensing the intent expression burning into the back of his neck, but Noah seemed to have finally taken pity on him. With a heavy, resigned sigh, Noah began: "Anyways, Cody, I sent you a trade offer on Kosmic Kaos. I was curious as to whether or not you'd gotten it yet."

"Oh," Cody answered, unable to completely mask the relief in his voice. He couldn't remember having ever been so grateful to escape any one topic. "No, I haven't. Not yet."

"Well, you'd better. I can't give you the 200K until you do." Noah shrugged – if it could even be called a shrug; his shoulders lifted only so-slightly. "And remember: we still have a few fireworks remaining. Come down at two this afternoon, if you can. Although, I can't imagine why would wouldn't be able to."

"Uh, yeah. Sure. See you then, I suppose."

Noah lifted his eyes briefly, wordlessly meeting Cody's still-anxious gaze. And as brown peered into blue, Cody felt his breath catch in his throat. The advice of the replies reverberated in his head as if echoing in a vast cave: _"Tell him!" . . . "If he's your friend, he'll understand." . . . "Don't be afraid to confess to him – you never know what might happen!"_

Cody's lips parted slightly, but his mouth had gone suddenly dry, and all sensible words vanished from his vocabulary. Abruptly struck dumb, Cody was helpless to do anything beyond watching blankly as Noah brushed by him.

But softly, unintentionally, Noah's bare arm knocked against Cody's. Cody couldn't hold back a gasp. Electricity sparked where their skin met, racking up through his veins like a white-hot flame of something he couldn't define. The sudden spark leapt in his mind, and it felt as if his entirety, body and soul, had skipped a beat.

"_Don't let him go!"_

"Noah, wait!"

Noah paused, abruptly stopped in his tracks by the sharp cry. Slowly, he turned, and his curious gaze raked over Cody's breathless expression: the wide, fearful eyes, the dry, parted lips, and the lightly-flushed skin. "What?" he replied, in a tone not quite demanding, but curt nonetheless.

But brown met the blue once again, and Cody felt his breathing stop altogether. Coherency escaped from his grasp, without leaving so much as a trace to its ever having been there in the first place. His mouth worked wordlessly, silently opening and closing as if he'd forgotten simple speech.

"Well?" Noah pressed, distinctly less patient than before.

But Cody simply couldn't say it. His gaze sank to the floor; his lower lip stung as he chewed on it nervously. "It's nothing," he murmured, almost inaudible. "J-just . . . I wanted to tell you that you don't have to give me the 200K if you don't want to. It wasn't that hard to keep away from them yesterday." As the words dropped from his lips, his stomach clenched viciously, demanding why he couldn't think of a better lie – a lie that wouldn't cost him 200K.

Noah frowned, his calculating gaze scrutinizing Cody's expression. There was something in his air that made Cody feel he didn't believe him, but Noah seemed to have decided it wasn't worth the hassle of calling him out. "Thanks, Cody," he replied finally. "But a bet is a bet. You deserve every coin."

And with that, he turned on his heel and strode out of sight.

--------------------------

Cody stared blankly at the sky overhead, his eyes tracing the soft puffs of clouds as they drifted aimlessly across the deep blue. Their tranquility and pure innocence felt so distant to him, as if they were a part of a different universe entirely, and he was simply looking in from a different plane of reality.

He was lounged languidly on a beach chair, his relaxed posture all but the antithesis of his actual state of mind. Other campers splashed gleefully in the glistening pool, mere feet from where he lay, and yet, they couldn't have been more oblivious to the turmoil within him. Nor did they care, but Cody was deeply grateful for the silence. His thoughts were a mess, and he was fairly certain that he wouldn't be able to carry on any level of intelligent conversation.

He couldn't believe that he'd almost confessed to Noah. Never before had he ever truly considered admitting his feelings, but, caught up in the euphoria of meeting so much support and acceptance online, the words had very nearly slipped out. He couldn't believe how close he'd come to admitting the truth, how little caution he'd managed to exercise in Noah's presence. He'd almost lost himself entirely, and he could hardy bear to think of the consequences. Overwhelmed, Cody cradled his face in his hands.

It could have been disastrous. What if Noah found him despicable, tossing him aside like a piece of old garbage? What if he took it a step farther and told all the other campers? What if he told Chris? The truth would be on national television, and everyone, from Prince Edward Island to Vancouver would know. But more importantly, every _gay-basher_ from Prince Edward Island to Vancouver would know. The support and compassion of allies would be drowned out by the passionate hate of homophobia wherever he went, and he, in his entirety, would be judged by nothing more than who he loved. He'd be harassed and shunned; there would be tabloids proclaiming him as the Total Drama Fag –

"_If he's your friend, he'll understand."_

A wave of calm gently washed over Cody's body. The words of a perfect stranger echoed once more in his head, bringing his thoughts down from his panicked rant. His hands, which he hadn't realized had curled into fists, unclenched at his sides, and a heavy pressure loosened its grip on his chest. He let out sigh. Of course Noah would understand.

Perhaps Noah judged harshly, but it was never without reason. He might feel uncomfortable and uncertain at first, but Cody felt certain that he would forgive him for having feelings he'd never asked for. Besides, Noah was too prideful – as strange as it may be as a good thing – to enlist the aid of a person he hated as much as Chris. And, quite frankly, he was just too lazy to ruin Cody's life.

Cody's eyes raked over the clouds once again, as the soft whisper of the breeze kissed the edge of his ear. Yes, he could confess to Noah. And he wanted to. The oppressive weight of his secret had been growing ruthlessly on his heart, gripping tighter and tighter by each passing day. He needed someone to understand – or at least be aware of – the pain he endured, and he could not stand to be plagued by endless "What if's?"

Still unnoticed by his fellow campers gamboling in the waters around him, Cody abruptly stood up. His jaw was set, and his foot firmly came down on the stone pavement below him. Even the slap of his shoe against the cement seemed to ring with a steady determination.

He had to confess.

--------------------------

Noah's eyes narrowed as he gently shook a sprinkle of powdered chemicals out with painstaking care. The soft white fell from the curled paper like snow, dancing ever-so-slightly in the air as they fell towards the open canister below. The proper ratio of salts was _essential_ in this particular sparkler; too much and it would explode, but too little, and there would be no color – and the vivid, violet color was the primary attraction of the sparkler.

Wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his brow and cursing the broken air-conditioning bitterly, Noah finally leaned back on his heels. His spine stretched and popped, sending waves of relief with each individual crack, and his aching shoulders sang their undying praise as he shrugged the rigidity out of them. Noah let out a soft sigh.

Good grief, why had he chosen to do fireworks again? Had he known so much work would be involved, how much time he would spend so much time crouched over in uncomfortable – no, excruciating – contortions, he would have never signed up in the first place. Each passing minute was another minute he should have been reading, relaxing in the cool, shadowy haven of his room. And in his room, the air-conditioning actually worked.

Noah's gaze lingered on the closed door, a slight sense of anticipation lingering in the dark brown. Where on earth was Cody? At least when Cody was there, crouching in agonizing positions for long periods of time in a sweltering back-room was actually somewhat bearable. But he should have arrived almost twenty minutes ago, and there were still no signs of his showing.

However, just as Noah had begun to turn back to the fireworks with a heavy, work-weary sigh, the slight shuffle of feet caught his ear. His eyes flew upwards, expectantly raking the unmoving door, and he barely dared breathe as he strained to catch the soft sound once more.

The door didn't open. Noah frowned, uncertain and somewhat suspicious, but he was not nearly curious enough to actually get up and check what was taking Cody so long to ender the room. Rather, he simply crossed his arms and waited, patiently preparing to make some witty remark about the remarkably long wait at the door.

Still, the door didn't open.

At this point, Noah was growing rather anxious. He could not fathom, by any stretch of his imagination, what would cause Cody to pause for so long. And it _was_ Cody, he knew; he would recognize that distinct, striding gait anywhere. But regardless, the door firmly remained shut.

But just as Noah began to consider actually getting up and wrenching the door open himself, a slight smudge of movement twitched at the corner of his eye. He paused, and his gaze slid down the door to rest at the foot, where the ground met the wood.

There lay an envelope. It was a soft white, the pure color of freshly-fallen snow, and several times longer than it was wide. The front was adorned with an untidy scrawl in simple, black ink that proclaimed the addressee: _Noah_.

Curiosity flared within him like a beacon, furiously burning a hole through his usually-impenetrable laziness. His foot came up slowly, sending sharp protests of pain through his leg as feeling returned. But Noah ignored the needles that seemed to cling to his nerves and took a cautious, careful step forward. His eyes narrowed intently, his expression akin to that of a cat stalking a bird.

Suddenly, an explosion of footsteps burst from the hall, and Noah dove at the envelope as if frightened that it might try to escape. The paper let out a sharp crunch in Noah's merciless grasp, creasing where his fingers dug in like a vice. But he paid no heed to the complaints, and turned instead to peer at the still-motionless door. The echoes of Cody's footfalls still rang in his ears, but by each passing second, they grew softer and softer as Cody vanished to some unknowable nook of the Playa.

Noah's frown darkened, his curiosity mingling with suspicion and even deeper concern. He'd never known Cody to run so fast before, as if the devil himself was after him, and although Cody had never entered the room, Noah could imagine each individual feature etched with sheer panic.

His eyes dropped to the letter clenched in his fist. The soft white seemed to glare at him reproachfully, clearly unhappy with its flagrant abuse, but to him, it whispered promises of answers.

With absolutely no regard for the welfare of the poor envelope, Noah tore it open in a frenzy, his fingers deftly ripping it rather wider than necessary. By the time he lifted the letter from the snow of envelope remains, his curiosity had flared once again, but this time, it burned stronger than ever before.

Suddenly, all the vicious energy drained from his hands, and his fingers brushed the side of the letter with all the tenderness of a butterfly's wing. He wasn't sure what he'd find there, outlined in black ink and lined paper. And nor was he sure how or why, but he felt that whatever it was, it would be monumental, almost life-changing.

His heart beating fit to burst with an anticipation he couldn't quite name, Noah unfolded the letter.

At first, his expression did not change. His eyes remained narrowed in suspicion and fiery curiosity, his mouth set with pursed lips and a scowl. But as his eyes raced across the page, a strange aura came over him. Fraction by fraction, his eyes widened until it was nothing short of a sheer miracle that they didn't just fall out of his head, and his eyebrows vanished under his bangs; they had risen so high. His dark glower relaxed, as his lips, still down-turned in an undeniable frown, parted from shock. His heart took off like a bullet, and he wasn't sure if he was breathing.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, numb and unfeeling, reality torn from his grasp. His fingers brushed the edge of the envelope disbelievingly, and it was all he could do to keep his hand from quivering like a leaf in the breeze. But the letter was real.

Noah swallowed, the color slowly rising back into his cheeks. The letter was real. Lungs still too paralyzed to accept any oxygen, he thrust the door into the vacant hallway and gently, almost whispering, murmured: "Cody?"

Then louder: "Oi! Cody!"

--------------------------

Cody didn't hear Noah's cry. He'd already sprinted up three flights of stairs, down a number of maze-like hallways, past six different employees who leapt out of his way, and finally collapsed on the unmade sheets of his bed. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving with exertion, but it wasn't nearly enough to calm his racing heart.

He didn't know what he'd been thinking. Confess to Noah? It was absurd. Noah wasn't a girl he could just flirt with, or simply persevere again and again after countless rejections; Noah was a _guy_, and his _friend_. Shouldn't friendship have been enough for him? Why did he have to go out and risk all of that?

Cody groaned, burying his face in his hands. He hadn't thought it out. Again. All the time he'd been writing the letter, ready to deliver the truth, he'd been firmly determined that this was what he had to do. His confidence hadn't faltered for even a second as he strode down the halls to where he knew Noah would be working, despite the predictable pre-confession nerves and anxiety. Even when he stood at the door, he didn't once consider turning back and shredding the letter.

That is, until it had left his hands. The moment the paper fell from his fingers, a shroud of sheer panic had swept over his heart, nearly paralyzing him on the spot. Suddenly, all his suppressed doubts gripped at his mind, and his confidence vanished as if it'd just gone up in smoke. He didn't want to confess. He wanted to burst into the room and snatch up that letter before Noah's fingers could even begin to brush the sides of the envelope, or, better yet, he wanted the earth to suddenly open up at his feet and swallow him whole.

But the earth didn't move, and Noah was just on the other side of the door. He would see Cody if he raced in to steal back the letter, and he'd most likely seen the letter slide under the door in the first place. There was nothing Cody could do . . . but run.

And so Cody ran. He turned on his heel and sprinted, his legs moving faster than they ever had in his life. He hardly saw where he was going, but it didn't matter. He just needed to get away. Somewhere where Noah wouldn't find him. Somewhere where no one would find him.

Somewhere no one would find him.

Carefully, as if frightened he might shatter into a million pieces if he moved too quickly, Cody pushed himself from the bed. He would found in his own room; it was just too predictable. If he hid in his room, he would eventually have to face Noah – and the rest of the world – although he could hardly bear to face himself. And the very thought of Noah, of confessing the truth of the letter and everything else he'd left unsaid, made his stomach twist into knots so vicious, he very nearly was sick. Cody turned to the door.

He couldn't stay here.

--------------------------

**I'm sorry; this chapter wasn't the greatest. I suffered from major writer's block for the better part of it, and it's only a sheer miracle that I managed to keep up with my two pages a day goal. Regardless, I hope it's not too bad.**

**On another note, I know that's a bit of a cruel cliff-hanger, but I'm going to go on a temporary hiatus for approximately a month. My best friend's birthday is coming up, and I want to write the next several chapters of her favorite story of mine (which I've been neglecting since I started this fanfiction). Well, maybe I'll write even better when I come back! XD**

**~ KiraKira-Kirimi**


	20. Exposer Tout

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 20 ~ Exposer Tout (To Display All)**

--------------------------

Bridgette's eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration, her gaze raking Geoff's expression with careful scrutiny. Her usually-upturned lips were set in an emotionless frown, but her fluttering fingers betrayed all of her stomach-churning anxieties.

There was just something strange about Geoff. Bridgette couldn't quite place her finger on what it was, but with each passing moment,she was more and more certain that something had changed. Despite his usual ear-to-ear grins and accompanying twinkle of his eyes, Geoff somehow seemed a thousand times more serious than he had the previous day. It was as if he had suddenly matured an eon overnight.

And, quite frankly, Bridgette was worried. She knew only too well that his matchmaking efforts had been extremely important to him. Although she may have understood the value herself and been almost overly-eager to help, her passion had come nowhere near the intensity of Geoff's; it paled to nothing more significant than a lowly ember in the shadow of his sun of enthusiasm.

But now that the week was over, his disappointment must be nothing short of unbearable.

At least, that was the only explanation Bridgette could come up with. Uncertainly, she nibbled her lip and threaded her fingers together – she wasn't sure as to how to approach the topic, to ask if his cheer was nothing more than a mask.

"Hey, Bridgette, girl – you okay?"

Bridgette jumped. Startled, she glanced up to find Geoff's warm eyes peering intently into hers, all the concern she felt reflected in his expression. For a long moment, silence hung in the air as she struggled to pull comprehensible words back into her grasp.

Then a small smile brushed at her lips – the only outward display of her appreciation for the irony of his question. "Yes, I'm fine. I just thought that you just seem a little different today - sort of quiet."

"Really?" He seemed pensive. "Huh. I guess I'm just thinking a lot."

"About what?"

Geoff shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, Noah said some pretty weird things this morning."

"Did he -?"

"No, it wasn't anything mean!" he finished, before she could even get the words out of her mouth. But then he paused, and amended: "Well, what I'm thinking of wasn't. He was kind of rude earlier, but he always is."

Bridgette could not help a small, understanding smile. That sounded like Noah, all right. "So what 'weird things' did he say?"

"It's kind of hard to explain . . . ." Geoff frowned. "Like, you had to be there to know?"

"Uh, I guess," Bridgette replied. But secretly, a slight pang of disappointment gripped at her mind. Curiosity and concern had melded as one, conceiving a deep, burning _need_ to know what held the Geoff she knew so far from her grasp.

The silence stretched on.

Bridgette sighed, letting her arm brush softly against Geoff's. At the touch, his eyes turned to meet hers, and a small smile shone from his lips. He wrapped his own arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer.

"You know," he mused finally. "Noah thought a lot about his feelings for Cody. I didn't know he had been so . . . uh . . . ," he trailed off.

"I think I know what you mean," Bridgette assured him.

Geoff grinned sheepishly. "Great! Well, it wasn't like he was an idiot in love. Like, he wasn't really _scared_. I think . . . he just saw things differently than we did."

"_Now_ I don't know what you mean."

He laughed. "I mean, he expects something different out of feelings for someone. It's more, uh, unselfish. I think that's the word."

"Unselfish? How so?"

"Well, he likes just being there for Cody. It's like he uses his feelings to let him be an awesome friend."

Bridgette paused, letting her gaze drop to her hands. She heard what Geoff was saying; understood the words and phrases. But it sounded so simple. Beyond the seemingly-unremarkable statements, there was something deeper that he was trying to convey, and Bridgette could feel it slipping through the very tips of her fingers.

At the same time, however, she knew that it was not for her understanding. Not quite yet. She let out a soft breath, curling her body into Geoff's side. "Is that what you've been thinking about all morning?"

"Yeah."

Carefully, Bridgette took his hand in hers, allowing their fingers to weave together. "I don't know how relevant this actually is," she murmured softly. "But I don't think that it's over yet. I think that Noah and Cody still have something. Something will happen."

"Really?" Geoff's eyes sparkled like twin stars. Relevant or not, the prediction was a welcome warmth in his heart.

"Really."

Geoff met her grin with one of his own. "I think you're right."

--------------------------

Noah's feet were numb and unfeeling. His toes were like deadweights, moving uselessly as he dragged himself forward. His ankles protested – pain throbbed with a vengeance and threatened to buckle his legs by each passing moment.

But Noah didn't falter. He pressed on, his deadened feet scuffing against the floor with every step he took. And scuffed step after scuffed step, he continued. He couldn't stop; he couldn't give in – at least, not until he found Cody.

Noah didn't think he'd ever walked so far in his life. He'd scoured the Playa three times, running from room to room with the wind at his feet. He'd glanced in every closet, peered into every shadowed corner, and yet, Cody stubbornly refused to be found.

Noah groaned and, for the thousandth time, he raked his mind for a place – any place – that he hadn't already checked.But it was in vain.

For once in his life, he was out of ideas.

He turned his eyes to the ceiling desperately. He _had_ to find Cody. He'd heard the desperation in Cody's retreating footsteps, and each word of the letter had rung with fear and anxiety. To Noah, it was all too-obvious that Cody was losing his confidence and self-assurance, that the homophobia of society was rearing its ugly head like some ominous demon.

And that fear could easily morph into self-hatred; Noah knew only too-well what self-hatred could do to a person. It was like a parasite, latching on to an innocent heart and draining all hope, one hurtful thought at a time. It fed on panic and anger – anger not at the world, but at one's self. For nothing was more powerful than anger at one's self; if left to grow, it gripped the soul in a black cloud of depression and hopelessness. With the hatred trapped within, there would be nowhere to run, and the cycle would continue into a vicious spiral of emotional mutilation.

It wasn't that Cody was on the verge of committing suicide – Noah was certain he knew better than that – but, physical self-destruction or no, the emotional trauma Noah sensed from him was a feeling no one should be forced to endure. The point was: Cody needed support, but he wasn't giving Noah the chance to provide it.

Noah stumbled forwards. He had to find Cody.

However, Noah had barely staggered his way over a grand total of six feet when a small sound snagged his concentration.

"N-Noah, sir?"

"What?" he snapped, whipping around to fix a vicious death glare on whomever could have the _audacity _to disrupt his meticulous search.

Caught in the fire of his glower, the young maid let out a soft yelp. Her dark eyes were wide, like saucers, and she stared up at him as if begging for his compassionate mercy.

Noah froze. He recognized that gaze, and in his mind, alarm bells were screaming. Throughout the past few days, the maid had never brought anything but bad news and trouble. She'd returned the plushie to him, despite his numerous, desperate efforts to get rid of the thing – and just yesterday, it had been she who had dragged him from his suite and the soothing comfort of an unmoving state. She'd interrupted conversations with Cody, and she had locked them together in a sub-zero kitchen freezer. She'd _worked_ for Geoff and helped make the past week miserable. And perhaps the agreement had come to a close; perhaps Noah had already won his freedom. Nonetheless, such offenses were hard to forgive.

"What do you want?" he demanded once more. His frown had darkened warily, but it was nothing compared to the sharp bite of his tone.

"I – I just . . . ," the maid stammered, her eyes frantically darting around like those of a terrified rabbit's.

"Spit it out, already."

"I was wondering if everything was okay!" she finally burst. "You've been pacing back and forth over and over again, like you're looking for something!"

Noah made no outward display of emotion, but in mind's eye, his frown was suddenly pensive. True; he had been 'pacing back and forth over and over again'. He was looking for something – or rather, some_one_. And everything was far from okay.

Perhaps it was time for the young maid to redeem herself.

"In that case, would it possible for you to show me the security room?"

All blood suddenly drained from the maid's face, leaving her ashen and gray. "Th-the security room?" she echoed hoarsely. Her fingers had suddenly started trembling, even as the color in her knuckles faded to white.

"Yes, the security room. Is there a problem with that?"

"N-no, sir! None at all! Except . . . ," she trailed off.

But at this point, Noah was growing rather exasperated. "How many times must I remind you to finish your sentences?" he snapped. "Is it really _that _hard?"

"No! I mean, no, sir! It's just that . . . you're not supposed to know about the security room."

Noah let out a cough of a laugh, not bothering to disguise the note of scorn in his voice. "Not know about the security room? What do they think we are – _monkeys_? The poorly-concealed cameras around the entirety of the Playa had to connect somewhere; of course I know about the security room. And now that I'm clearly aware of existence, I demand to be shown to it."

"But I'm not allowed to." The maid looked dubious.

But Noah's glare simply raged. "Oh, to heck with this!" he sharply exploded. "Listen: your job, as an employee of la Playa des Losers, is to cater to us . . . losers. Am I correct?"

"Y-yes."

"And that entails adhering to our more extraneous demands – again, correct?"

"I suppose . . ."

"Then adhere to this more extraneous demand: bring me to the security room!"

"Yes, s-sir!" And as if physically burned by the fury in his glare, the maid leapt backwards, terror etched upon each of her features. "Right away, sir!"

Noah smirked a proud, self-satisfied smirk. "Good."

--------------------------

"Hey, Bridgette."

Somewhat startled, Bridgette glanced up; it had never been like Geoff to break a cuddle moment with verbal communication – and yet, in the past five minutes, he'd done so not once, but twice. At the same time, however, she couldn't say that she was completely surprised. There had been an unsatisfied sense about Geoff, as if he'd never managed to get to the heart of what he'd been trying to say. An intangible tension had hung in the air, and, as he spoke, it was only just now beginning to dissipate.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"How long have you been a vegetarian?"

Bridgette blinked. Of all the possible responses that had run through her mind, this was not one of them. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it, and when she answered, her tone was slow and meditative. "About six years – why?"

"Six years? Wow, that's awesome!" He flashed her a dazzling grin, and despite herself, Bridgette returned the smile whole-heartedly. Geoff-continued: "So . . . you must know a ton of veggie foods that taste good, right?"

"I guess I do. I can cook some, too."

"Then, can you teach me?"

"What?" Bridgette stared at him, not quite sure whether or not to believe her ears. Geoff wanted her to teach him how to cook vegetarian food? Geoff wasn't even vegetarian himself, and Bridgette just couldn't fathom why he would suddenly develop such an interest in her personal dietary choices. Granted, Geoff knew she didn't eat meat, and he even found it intriguing. But, at the same time, it was simply 'a fact of Bridgette' – one of her quirks, nothing more. To Geoff, there had never been a personal level to it.

"Teach you?" she echoed. "Why?"

Nonchalant, Geoff shrugged. "I'm interested, you know? I mean, you're totally cool and all, and I want to try out what you eat."

Bridgette somewhat flushed in response. Perhaps his request was sudden and unprecedented, but it wasn't as if she was about to complain. She cared deeply for Geoff, and his attention to her lifestyle was touching. "Thanks. Sure, I'll teach you – but what brought this on?"

"Oh, I was just thinking –,"

"You seem to be doing that a lot today," she teased.

Rolling his eyes ever so-slightly – he'd been spending a tad too much time around Noah – Geoff answered: "I was thinking that it's really awesome I'm with you. But, I could be missing some equally-awesome bits of our relationship, being distracted by the romantic bit of it and all."

"You lost me."

"I mean, if you hadn't returned my feelings, and we were just friends, what would it be like? What would we do that we don't do now?" He shrugged. "And I thought I would probably consider vegetarianism – just see what it's like."

Bridgette let out a soft sigh, letting her gaze roll to the heavens. "I don't think I quite understand, but I'll let that go."

"I think you'll get it."

"Sure." She offered him a smile. "But now shall we go see if the kitchens will let us in?"

"You betcha!"

Leaping up from the spot like a bundle of pure energy, Geoff positively glowed with excitement. His broad grin had widened even further, by some strange contortion of the human body, and Bridgette could not help but giggle at his infantile enthusiasm.

"Whoa, cool it there. We'll get there in time, I promise."

Neither of them noticed as Noah hurtled by.

--------------------------

When Noah had first entered the security room earlier, the first thing that had struck him was that it was a _mess_. Scattered over controls were empty Coke cans and Sprite bottles, and Subway wrappers lay strewn across the floor like paper carpeting. Half-finished burgers dripped grease in the corner as flies hummed a blissfully on the bun. Even the windows were so sickeningly caked with dirt and . . . else . . . that they had taken on the appearance of salt-frosted sea glass.

Then the overwhelming scent of Febreeze hit the back of Noah's throat, and he gagged, feeling his eyes tear at the sting. His vision blurred somewhat, and he squinted through the fog in an attempt to make out the man behind the controls.

"God, this scent is disgusting!" Noah choked, fighting back the burn in his lungs.

Behind him, the child-like maid let out a soft cry of fear and surprise. Her eyes had gone wide, and her fingers trembled as she reached out to tug Noah's sleeve – but then thought better of it.

Nevertheless, Noah glanced at her, his frown set in obvious irritation. "What?"

She shook her head. But her gaze never wavered, and she stared pleadingly past him.

The security man loomed over Noah, menacing and dark. His pink-flushed cheeks rested upon the rolls of flesh that once were his neck and chin, and his large, beefy fingers had curled into threatening fists. His nostrils flared.

Unbidden, a thought leapt from the back of Noah's mind – he remembered reading somewhere that hippopotamuses kill more people each year than sharks do.

At the same time, however, he was remarkably nonchalant. "Oh, dear," he said dryly."I seem to have gone and insulted your house-keeping skills, have I not?" His voice was painfully toneless, as if he was faced with murderous security men four times his size on an everyday basis.

"Watch it there, mister," the security man growled. "I'll have you know that I'm taking anger management classes – but only one so far." He stepped closer, drowning Noah in his immense shadow. "So my _management_ ain't that great."

Noah bit back a sharp retort. As tempting as it may be, he didn't have time to play cat and mouse. "Well, that's unfortunate. But may I remind you that, as an ex-contestant at La Playa Des Losers, I have the power to get you fired with one bad word?"

The security man's eyes bulged, and his mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

Noah continued: "So, let's just put this behind us, and why don't you let me take a look at the security cameras?"

"But you're –,"

"– Not supposed to know about them. I'm aware." He was honestly getting quite tired of this entire charade. "Unfortunately, they need to be better concealed."

"But what do you need with them, anyway?" the security man asked suspiciously. "What would a _loser_ like you want?"

Noah somewhat flinched at the title, but otherwise, he did not react. "I need to speak with my . . . friend . . . but he is avoiding me."

"I can imagine why."

"Then I beg of you: keep your imagination to yourself. I just need to see the feeds."

"No," the security man retorted, folding his arms. "If this friend of yours doesn't want to talk to you, then I'm not gonna force him."

"Oh, good grief!" Noah exclaimed. "Will you _please_ leave your antagonism of me out of this?"

". . . What?"

Struggling to pull his exasperation and irritation under control, Noah took a deep, steadying breath. "I know I insulted you, and I'm sorry. It was entirely uncalled for."

The security man stared, completely and utterly shocked. Like most of the sane population, he had never expected Noah to take the blame upon himself, or to actually _apologize_. He had been fully-prepared for a battle of prides, but taken off-guard as he was now, he had absolutely no idea how to respond.

But Noah wasn't finished. "And I know that my regret may not fully clear my name in your eyes, but please listen. Let me see the feeds – not for _me_, but for my friend. He is not in his right state of mind, and I _must_ speak with him. Please."

Not only was Noah saying that he was sorry; he was even begging the security man for his cooperation. He was admitting he needed the help of the very man he'd intentionally riled mere seconds ago, letting his own reputation – his own sense of self-respect – fall in the process.

Of course, the security man could not know how difficult it was for Noah to swallow his pride.

Noah was disgusted with himself; he could not believe he was _groveling _for the chance to look at the feeds. He'd simply thrown away all semblance of dignity, and was accepting full blame – when, indeed, the security man himself had incredibly over-reacted. But Noah held it down. As difficult as it may be, he knew that he had no choice; it was far more important that he find Cody than it was to protect his precious self-respect.

"Please," he repeated, feeling the bitter taste of the word rolling against his tongue. "I'm sorry."

"Well, I guess . . . ," the security man finally consented. "But just for your friend. Got that?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"So, uh, who's your friend? Maybe I can point him out." The security man glanced at the screens, not even bothering to make eye-contact as he offered his help.

"Do you know all the campers by name?"

"Yeah."

"Cody, then. Have you seen him?"

"Cody?" the security man echoed. "That guy?" He jabbed a finger at a screen in the upper-left corner. "Yeah, I was wondering what he was doing, lounging about there on the roof."

The grayscale display was an overhead view, portraying a small figure sprawled out, eagle-spread, across the shingles. Even in the fuzzy, undefined image, an expression of utter loss was clear upon Cody's face, and his eyes raked the foreboding sky pleadingly. Noah felt his heart wrench with sympathy, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

"Where – where is that?"

"The roof of the kitchens," the security man replied. "Left wing. I think he got up there by climbing out the top window – hey, are you listening to me?"

But Noah had already vanished.

--------------------------

The soles of his shoes slapped noisily against the tiles, the sound of the smack echoing down the halls as he sped up. Noah's expression was soured in a grimace of concerned determination, and suddenly, it didn't matter that his feet ached with every step. It didn't matter that his haste was attracting unwanted stares, and it was nothing less than a sheer miracle that he'd remembered to fumble with the jamming device beforehand. Granted, he wasn't exactly doing anything as uncharacteristic as actually _running, _but Noah was well-aware of the fact that his obvious anxiety would be more than enough evidence for Chris's dirty, speculative mind.

Noah burst into the kitchen in full-stride.

"H-hey!" cried out the startled soup-chef, his eyes wide. "You can't come in here! If you're hungry –,"

"Oh, shut it, already," Noah snapped. "Has Cody come by here – you know, blue eyes, mousy-brown hair, probably looking rather upset?"

"Uh, I wouldn't know. I just got here."

Noah let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. "Some help you are. Could you at least tell me if that window leads to the roof?" He gestured vaguely towards an undersized window at the back of the kitchens; it was small, granted, but it was clear that a person could slither through – and had, judging by the way the curtains fluttered in the breeze.

"I guess it would . . . why?"

"No reason that involves you," he retorted, already dangling one leg over the sill.

The soup-chef's eyes bulged, clearly shocked to see him hanging off the side of the building like a monkey, but before he could find any words to say, Noah had clambered through the window and out of sight.

The ceiling of clouds hung low in the sky, ominous and dark overhead. The fog's kiss was cold against his skin, and his vision was blurred by the mist that blanketed the land. But he squinted through it, just barely able to make out the dark figure that lay, oblivious, against the damp shingles of the roof.

"Hey, Cody." Noah's voice fell flat in the stagnant air, distant even to his own ears. "You know, I can think of a thousand places more comfortable than this roof."

"Noah?" The figure let out an involuntary gasp of surprise. Clumsily, he scrambled up to a strange limbo between crouching and sitting.

"That's me."

"What . . . what are you doing here?"

"That's what I should be asking you." Noah pushed his way through the oppressive weight of the fog, his footsteps echoing dully in the heavy silence. At Cody's side, he fell to his knees and peered earnestly into the soft, ocean blue of his eyes. "Did you really think you could hide from me?"

Cody offered no response, save for the soft blush paining his cheeks.

"Did you really think I would _hate _you – because you find me attractive? Honestly, I should be grateful for that." Noah let out a hollow laugh. "No, that's far too much an understatement. I'm _euphoric._"

Owlishly, Cody blinked back up at him. "But . . . why?" he breathed.

"Everyone loves a bit of flattery, of course. And, honey . . . I feel the same way about you. I've never cared about anyone like I do about you."

"Stop it."

He started. Cody's tone was sharp and biting, its sting lingering forebodingly in the fog between them. "What?" Noah demanded.

The warmth in the blue of Cody's eyes had frozen to ice, and although it wasn't exactly cruel, it pierced his very heart.

"Don't make it up, not for my sake. I'm used to unrequited feelings, so it's okay that you don't like me back."

Noah found he could not reply. It was understandable that Cody didn't believe him; after all, it was almost too good to be true, and Noah himself had a hard time wrapping his mind around the wonder of the situation. But, in Cody's mind, Noah was lying not to _mock_, but to _protect_ – despite his cynicism, sarcasm, and overall bluntness. Cody trusted him in a way that Noah wasn't certain he would have been able to, had the situation been reversed.

"But thanks anyway," Cody was saying. "It means a lot."

Noah groaned, irately drawing a hand across his face. "Cody, I'm serious."

"No, really. I'm gay, and you're not –,"

"Who says? I'm not so _selfless_ as to lie about my feelings for your sake!"

And before Cody could reply, Noah's hand had grasped his shoulder, pulling him forward. A tense heartbeat passed in silence and immobility as he peered, uncertain, into Cody's wide-eyed gaze. Then, without warning, he leaned in and delicately pressed their lips together.

In Noah's pocket, the jamming device blinked once and died.

--------------------------

**Who wants a story arch? XD**

**I'm so sorry this took me so long! I honestly hadn't planned to take so long a break, and I assure you, had I had any more say in the matter, this would have been up ages ago. But I didn't expect all the end-of-the-year work I got . . . at least, I only have two more weeks of school, so hopefully, I will be able to be more frequent in updates. **

**And if anyone's interested, you can see what kept me busy past the promised month; my literature project was to essentially write a fanfiction for **_**Lord of the Flies**_**, and I wrote a ten-page oneshot that speculated about Simon and Ralph as a romantic couple! (Before you ask, yes, my teacher accepted it. She's just awesome like that.)**

**Thank you for your patience!**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	21. Silence Travers le Verre

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 21 ~ Silence Travers le Verre (Silence Through the Glass)**

A dark cave lay nestled in the veil of summer foliage, far from the reaches of any semblance of proper civilization, but its jaws were spread wide in a proud sneer. Clearly, it was satisfied with its silent solitude and felt no strong desire to expose itself to the world; no, the stray beaver was all the company it needed, thank you very much. And, even if an unfortunate hiker happened across the cave, he would have found himself suddenly keen to stride off in the opposite direction. The broad world generally agreed on this matter: the cave was best left alone.

A fortress of crumbling boulders had tumbled its way before the entrance of the cave, whether by intention or by chance, and tall, twisted sentries of withering oaks stood guard over the dark secrets within. Like deadly fangs, stalactites dripped threateningly from the ceiling, damp with moisture and moss, but it was the jutting stalagmites that gave the cave a Cheshire-cat smirk.

From deep within the belly of the cave glowed the fire of the dragon's heart; a soft, white light pulsed against the stones, giving the shadows a sickly, ghost-like shade. And if one strained to listen, there was a soft hum alight on the silence. However, if one was able to make out a crackling as well, he or she was much to close and was advised to immediately step back.

But for all its foreboding nature, the cave _did _harbor life.

Secluded far out of sight and from the reaches of the sun, Chris lounged back in his chair, his lips pursed disapprovingly. A wall of flickering screens loomed before him, each portraying the going-ons of another section of the island or Playa. Granted, _Total Drama Island_ was meant to center around Lake Wawankwa, but Chris couldn't bear to let any exciting and scandalous developments of the ex-contestants slip by his fingers, and, as a result, he'd fitted La Playa Des Losers with fifty-odd cameras of its own.

Unfortunately, however, it seemed that the Playa's cameras were acting up. Barely one week had passed since the start of the show when the first feed had suddenly shorted, and although Chris had ignored it at first, the static persisted. Almost daily, another camera would read nothing but black-and-white fuzz for five to ten minutes, blanketing the cave in a snow of pale, flickering, light, and, to Chris, it always felt like an eon had passed before it finally sputtered back to life. Who knew what unspeakably indecent happenings could be unfurling at La Playa Des Losers, only to be shielded by the infuriating veil of static? The very thought was enough to make him shudder.

When he'd called in a technician, however, the technician had told him that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the cameras. And, exasperated, Chris had promptly dismissed him. Honestly, you didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know that static _was not good._ Chris was no idiot.

And now, the cameras had returned to their daily nuisance; a small screen at the very corner of the display buzzed and crackled in a fruitless attempt to reestablish connection with its feed. And although the camera was actually focused on nothing more important than the lichen growing on the roof of the kitchens, Chris felt his usual anxieties beginning to irk at the back of his mind. Something huge could be happening on that roof. He could be missing the one event that would make him the television host of the century, and even if he couldn't quite think _what_ could be so interesting on a roof, the suspense was killing him.

Chris didn't even know what was occurring upon that roof before the image had decomposed. He'd never bothered to check that lonely, rooftop feed in the belief that nothing could truly catch his interest there, but now he regretted it deeply. After all, if he'd at least been _certain _that the roof was devoid of life, his mind would have been put somewhat at rest. But as it was, Ezekiel could have been stripping up there, and Chris would never have been any the wiser.

Color flashed across the screen.

Stifling a gasp of exhilaration, Chris stared unblinkingly at the static that had quickly consumed the television once more. He'd seen the soft melanin-tan of skin tone; he was sure of it. Someone was on the roof for the first time since the start of the show, and he could feel his heart racing, the beats staccato and erratic. Something was happening.

Chris's nails dug anxiously into palms, leaving angry red half-moons where they nipped at the skin. But he ignored them; in fact, he'd even forgotten to breathe. His entire existence was centered around that camera, and nothing could divert his attention from its tease of color.

The image flared up suddenly, more sharply defined than ever, and Chris very nearly collapsed on the spot.

Standing upon the lichen-carpeted shingles of the kitchen's roof and oblivious to their audience, Noah and Cody were _kissing_. Well, to be more precise, Noah's lips were softly lighting upon Cody's, but Cody looked positively pale with shock. He was a rock in Noah's arms, frozen and unmoving, and his hands were limp at his sides. At the same time, however, he did not push Noah away in anger or disgust but simply stood, rabbit-eyed, under Noah's soft touch.

Chris was feeling positively light-headed at this point, but miraculously, he managed to stumble his way to the controls without incident. An ear-to-ear grin threatened to split his face in two as he froze the image on the screen, and a garbled laugh tore itself from his throat. The very thought of ratings – of his coming money and fame – was enough to make his blood sing. He would be rich. He would be adored internationally, always to be remembered as the dashing, charismatic host without shame or any lack of television excitement – quite frankly, he was brashly unafraid to out a pair of young, teenage boys on the national broadcast.

Oh, but his exhilaration was positively blinding. Chris could hardly think straight, and even as his mind jumped from fame to riches to ratings to fame again, he let out a weak giggle. Kissing indeed!

-------------------------

Noah's lips were tantalizingly gentle against Cody's, wordlessly whispering of loving adoration. There was no lust, no fierce desire – or, rather, it was well and carefully controlled. Warm overtones of compassion were emanating from Noah, enveloping Cody in a sense of perfect security and belonging. And there were a thousand other emotions coursing through his veins, some his and some Noah's, but none of them could ever be described in words, let alone fully grasped.

Cody felt a shiver both hot and cold run down his spine. His shocked, wide-eyed gaze could not tear itself from Noah's face, and the serene expression that lay there affected him nearly as deeply as the touch of his lips. Cody's breath was frozen in his chest, his mind whirling in a hurricane of thoughts. He couldn't even be sure that his heart was beating anymore.

Then finally, Noah withdrew. But Cody did not even so much as blink; his expression was stone, lips parted slightly in stunned disbelief, and his fingers had begun to tremble anxiously. Noah's soft, somewhat-dazed air suddenly sharpened, and a concerned frown darkened his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Noah murmured, his voice strained. "I shouldn't have done that."

And it was as if the words had freed Cody from his rigidity, unshackling his limbs and soothing his racing mind. Albeit still somewhat in shock, he struggled to swallow the baseball-sized lump in his throat as he fished for words in the sea of emotion.

"No," he replied finally. "It's my fault. I wouldn't listen."

"Quite true."

But ignoring the lilting tone of playful mockery in Noah's voice, Cody stared dazedly at his fidgeting fingers. He chewed his lip, suspended in baffled disbelief. "You . . . you really like me?" he echoed.

"Oh, good grief, Cody!" Noah cried, exasperated. "I think I just made that clear!"

"Well, it's just a surprise! I mean, I didn't even know you were gay!"

"Oh? How would you like me to prove my queerness? Shall I conjure up a feather boa, recite romantic poetry, or explain the difference between summer and winter skin tones?"

Flushing somewhat, Cody tried – and failed – to conceal a slight smile. "Romantic poetry would be nice."

Noah rolled his eyes. "You know, you're hopelessly vain," he bluntly remarked. Indignant, Cody opened his mouth to retort something heatedly, but before the words could spill from his tongue, Noah had locked their gazes, gently taking Cody's hand in his.

"_Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure?_

_Who keeps the key of Nature's chiefest treasure?_

_To you, to you, all song of praise is due;_

_Only for you the heaven forgat all measure."_

Color flamed in Cody's cheeks, and a sheepish, embarrassed grin graced his lips. He may not have understood every word, but the general gist of the poem was clear. "Do you – do you really think my eyes are nice? And what was that from?"

"That was _Astrophel and Stella_,"Noah replied. "Yes, I think your eyes are 'nice'."

Cody beamed, his expression shining with self-assurance and pride. "Oh. Well, so are yours."

Noah, on the other hand, did not take the compliment as well as Cody had; he blinked, flushed, and stared at his toes. And suddenly, he found himself extremely self-conscious under Cody's exuberant grin. "Thank you," he murmured uncertainly.

"So, are we . . . boyfriends, now?"

Delicately, Noah arched an eyebrow. "You're rather headstrong for someone who was so confused hardly a moment ago," he remarked, the earlier blush still bright in his cheeks.

"Well, um . . ." It was Cody's turn to look uncomfortable. "I don't know. Maybe it just hasn't sunk in yet. Maybe I'm in shock."

"Give it time. You'll wake up tomorrow and realize it's not all a dream."

"But are we?"

"Are we what?"

"_Boyfriends_, Noah." Cody bit back a snicker. "Are we boyfriends?"

"Oh," Noah replied, feigned nonchalance subconsciously weaving its way into his tone. But Cody's grin grew; he knew Noah too well to believe his stone apathy.

"And . . . ?"

"I suppose we are." His mask fell away, an uncontrollable smirk shining upon his lips, and as much as he tried to hold it back, his grin only seemed to spread. Suddenly, however, his expression froze. "Unless you don't want to be," Noah added, his voice low and intense.

"Of course I do!" Cody retorted, aghast. "Why wouldn't I?"

Noah shrugged, but bubbling excitement and joy were shining radiantly from his eyes once more. It was clearly all he could do to keep himself from quite literally exploding with enthusiasm. He'd cared so deeply for Cody for so long, wistful and nursing secret aches week after week, and Cody had been the one person to make the entirety of Total Drama Island worthwhile, the only one to brighten his day without fail. But being with him had been a much taller hurdle, and one he'd never hoped to overcome – and yet, they were _boyfriends_! It was almost surreal.

"You're sure?" Noah implored. "As I've said before, you were extremely confused and frightened not too long ago. I'd understand if you wanted some time to sort things out."

"Well . . ." Cody paused, looking a little troubled.

Noah felt his heart drop to his toes. "Well what?"

"Well, I want to go out with you, of course. But you're right; I'm not ready to come out of the closet to everyone yet."

"So, you're saying . . ."

"Can we, um, have a secret relationship for now?" Cody pleaded, his eyes wide and trusting. "I promise it won't be forever – just until I get my head screwed on right."

For a long moment, Noah did not reply. His forehead was creased deeply in though, his gaze pensive and calculating as he considered his entwined fingertips. He'd been expecting Cody to call it off entirely, to fall back on simple friendship just after their exchange of confessions – the cruelty of the thought alone was enough to make Noah flinch. But nor was he certain what to make of a secret relationship; to remain in the closet would mean no public displays of affection, no speaking of anything of their relationship to anyone. While others spoke of their dates, Noah and Cody would have to retain the pretense of being single – even to their closest friends. For it wouldn't be right if Noah's family knew Cody was gay before Cody's own parents did.

But then again, since when had others' opinion and understanding of him bothered Noah? He'd never particularly cared if people ever _thought _of him ever again, so why was it so important that they knew about his feelings for Cody? In all honesty, it really _wasn't_ important. It only mattered to him that Cody was happy, and that he knew Noah would always be there for him.

"Fine," Noah assented. "We're _secret _boyfriends, then. And take years to come out, if you must."

Cody practically radiated his overwhelming gratitude. "Thank you so much! But I promise it won't take me more than a couple of weeks to tell everyone."

"Regardless. And Cody . . . ?"

"Yeah?"

Noah smirked, cocking a hand sternly on his hip. "Dating or not, I still want all my books back."

"Even _Gone with the Wind_?"

"_Especially _that one."

-------------------------

Noah collapsed before the television, his various limbs sprawled haphazardly over the pillows of the couch. He literally glowed with unchecked exuberance, and a brilliant, genuine smile had plastered itself over his face. He was Cody's boyfriend – Cody actually liked _him_! And he was Cody's boyfriend! The mantra sang in time with his quickening heart, soaring on the wings of his joy.

Oh, heaven truly _was _a place on Earth.

Still struggling – and failing – to fight back his ear-to-ear grin, Noah dug in his pocket for the jamming device. He'd not switched it off earlier, despite the remarkable lack of incriminatingly romantic activities during their evening of videogames, on the off-chance that Cody might want to talk about something in regards to their newly-affirmed status as _boyfriends_. And although such a conversation had not, in fact, come up, Noah was nonetheless grateful that he hadn't chosen to switch off the jamming device; a hundred stolen glances heavy with unspoken questions mingling with joy had leapt through the air by nearly every consecutive moment. The grins that threatened to split their faces in two never wavered, and Noah and Cody had perhaps sat little too closely together to be completely free of suspicion. Chris wouldn't have to be a mind-reader to know that something was off.

But in the safety of his own room, Noah could bury his inconveniently uncontrollable grin in a book, and no one would be any the wiser. He snatched a stray paperback off his bedside table, flipping to a random page as he nestled the jamming device in his palm.

Then his gaze sidled to the right, and Noah felt his breath catch in his throat. His eyes grew to the size of saucers as his heart pounded erratically in his chest – not in the warm, welcome way it did in Cody's presence, but in sheer and utter terror.

The jamming device was already off; the gleaming, red eye was dull and lifeless, and there were no soft vibrations of well-oiled mechanics. And yet, the switch was firmly situated in the 'on' position. It should have been on; it should have been protecting him from Chris's too-long nose. But, his heart sinking, Noah understood that he and Cody had been bared, emotionally naked, through the feeds of the cameras. And, almost certainly, they would be revealed to the entire nation, come the next episode of _Total Drama Island_.

But Cody wasn't even ready to come out to his parents, let alone to everyone in Canada. He'd be a wreck; he'd be frightened and anxious, and he would very likely lose a number of friendships he hadn't been prepared to lose. His coming out would be cruelly forced upon him in a way that no one deserved to endure. But Cody would have to – sweet, innocent Cody who would never dream of doing anything wrong (other than shamelessly using terrible pick-up lines), who wanted nothing more than to be "cooler", but whose knowledge of videogames, good literature, and science would forever prevent him from becoming thus. And if the truth were to come out so suddenly, so harshly, Cody would be living his worst nightmare.

Yet, Noah knew Chris would enjoy every moment of it; he'd relish Cody's shock and fear, amusing himself by hurting Cody and his family. And just the fact that Cody was so uncomfortable would make it all the more sadistically enjoyable. A bitter taste stung Noah's tongue as a deep, fiery anger boiled within him, crawling through his veins and scorching his thoughts. The burn it left festered a furious red to match the flush of indignation blossoming across his cheeks, and in an instant, Noah knew he'd never hated anyone as much as he hated Chris. The man was simply despicable.

"Chris!" Noah barked furiously in no particular direction. "I don't know where the camera is in this room, but I know it's _there, _and I know you can hear me. I'll make myself brief; hurt Cody, emotionally or physically, in any way, shape, or form, and I'll ensure you wish you'd never been born. Now, I'm willing to compromise, and if you take Cody out of everything you may be planning to do, I will say anything you want – so long as it doesn't involve Cody. I'll say it on national television." His eyes were burning, red-hot tears of fury prickling at the corners. His voice broke. "I swear it."

-------------------------

**Greetings from India! ^.- Actually, by the time I post this, I won't be in India, seeing as I have no computer access here. But the Author's Note **_**was **_**written in India, so whatever. Anyways, I really can't believe I finished Chapter 21 so quickly, but I suppose temperatures of 110 degrees Fahrenheit make for a very prolific writer; it's honestly a struggle to do anything as physical as even getting out of bed – which is the stone floor for me, because it's not so hot down there. :P**

**But you won't **_**believe **_**what's going on here; the newspapers are bright and gay with rainbows in every headline, and over the past three days, I've snipped out sixteen articles about homosexuality – and I haven't even finished scouring today's papers. Why all the gaiety you ask? Because India is planning to repeal Section 377! Section 377 was brought to India 150 years ago by the British and marks homosexual activity as disgusting, making it illegal in the process. But India plans to get rid of it – way to go! Now there's parades in the streets as the GLBT community anticipates their coming freedom, and there is article after article about so-and-so gay couple and so-and-so human rights. I'm so happy; I'm nearly jumping for joy whenever the newspapers come in. I kind of wish that I could marching with them in New Delhi – after all, it is only about an hour away – but can you imagine me telling my grandmother where I wanted to go? She'd have a heart attack! It's not that she's against gay rights, but last year, the parades didn't get along well with the police. (However, this year, the police admitted they were having fun watching all the "pretty colors go by".) Again, way to go, India! Well, if I can't march, I can still drag out all my rainbow pins and rainbow earrings. :D Sorry about the rant, but I'm so happy!**

**~ KiraKira-Kirimi**


	22. Fais Confiance à Moi

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 22 ~ Fais Confiance à Moi (Trust Me)**

Noah slept fitfully that night. His nerves never quieted, and every moment was plagued by indignation and anger; even when he closed his eyes, Chris's ridiculing laugh floated in and out of his dreams. Of course, he'd only nod off for a half-hour tops, so troubled were his thoughts, and he always awoke just as disquieted as he'd been before falling asleep.

Thus, when the morning sunlight streamed through the window at long last, Noah was in a thoroughly foul mood. Stress pounded ruthlessly behind his temples, and his stomach had twisted into innumerable, sickening knots. The very whistle of a bird outside was enough to make Noah wish ill upon all happy creatures.

Noah was in the midst of brushing his teeth – in the most begrudging way possible, it must be noted – when a heavy knock echoed at the door. He cast a vicious glare at the mirror, as if _it _were the cause of his very unwelcome interruption, but otherwise acted as if he'd heard nothing. After all, it couldn't be Cody, seeing as he would be out could for at least another two hours, and Noah couldn't think of anyone else in the world he could endure talking with at the moment. Even if Pythagoras had come back from the dead or something, he should have picked another time – when Noah's head _wasn't_ one pulsating beat of pain.

But the would-be visitor had other ideas, and after five minutes of persistent knocking, Noah finally caved. "What?" he demanded, thrusting the door wide. "Couldn't you be _patient?_"

A tall, dark employee met his gaze steadily, his own expression devoid of any and all emotion. "Message for you, sir," he stated tonelessly.

Noah's frown darkened, but he took the small paper held out to him all the same. However, he didn't so much as glance at it. His gaze was trained upon that of the employee, his expression suspicious and cold. Certainly, he had an inkling of whom the message was from, but he sure wasn't happy about it, and somehow it seemed that if he stared down the employee enough, the nature of the message would change.

But not even the expression of the employee was affected by the distrust in Noah's glare. The cold air of boredom lay thick over his skin, and he – rudely – stifled a yawn; the self-righteous fury rolling off Noah was quite bothersome, really. He wasn't exactly in the mood to deal with it just then.

"Well then, mister," the employee sighed, his voice laced thoroughly with drowsy indifference. "I'll leave you to it." And with a sarcastic swish of his hand, he turned on his heel and vanished down the hall. He didn't glance back.

Left standing dumbly in the doorway with nothing to glare at but the pasty wallpaper of the hallway before him, Noah finally turned his attention to the paper in his palm for the first time. It was unmarked and unaddressed, folded several times over on plain white paper. Rather, it was off-white; it was grubby with smudged dirt, and a grease stain had soaked a small spot to transparency. It was a rather revolting way to present a message, Noah reflected as he began to unfold the paper – especially so if you regarded who'd sent it.

It was a printout of an e-mail, so at least he was spared the trouble of deciphering chicken scratch amongst the grease and dirt. Optimistically, Noah attempted the creases against his leg, but he abandoned the task when he only managed to smudge the grime more.

_Give this message to Noah ASAP – if you cherish your paycheck, that is, _the letter hostilely began.

_Hey Noah,_

_You know, you and Cody look so good together – I can't believe I didn't see it before! My goodness, you just about made my day with that little make-out session of yours (although it was rather pitiful – I mean, where were the hormones? Do better next time for the cameras, won't you?) And from what I gather, Cody hasn't come out to anyone but you yet. Beautiful, just beautiful!_

_Chris._

_P.S. And your threats for Cody's sake were so cute! They'll really up the ratings._

Noah felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut. Admittedly, there was nothing in the message he hadn't expected, but it was turmoil all the same to see it down on parent. He had no qualms about respect or dignity; he found it _amusing_ that Cody hadn't had the chance to tell his parents quite yet, and the idea made Noah's stomach clench in disgust.

Noah let out a groan, slumping helplessly against the door frame. He couldn't let Chris hurt Cody, and he would do everything in his power to put a stop to this nonsense. But the new episode was scheduled to air _tonight_. Noah had no plan, no back-up, and Chris had made it clear that threats meant nothing to him. Nor did Noah have any transportation to the island in order to use _physical _coercive means; the producers would be sure of that. And unless he came up with something _fast_, there was a very real chance that Chris would air the footage unhindered.

But the worst thing, by far, was that Cody wasn't aware of his own predicament. He was blissfully ignorant, a sitting duck in the palm of Chris's hand. The shock would be crippling, and Noah couldn't imagine how he'd fully recover. Granted, Noah would much prefer that the anxiety of exposure never touched Cody, and that he could remain care-free and oblivious, but in the event that Noah could _not _stop Chris, it was much more important that Cody was prepared.

Noah grit his teeth, swallowing the bitter taste of plausible defeat. But it was the only way, the only _sensible _way, and as much as he hated it, he had no choice.

------------------------

Cody whined, stubbornly pulling his pillow over his head as the harsh knocking persisted. "Go away," he mumbled indistinctly into the cloth. "'S too early . . ."

But his wishes were not obliged to, and the knocking grew only more impatient. "Cody, get up! It's me, Noah. I need to talk to you."

"Noah?" In an instant, Cody was fully awake, his pillow tossed aside and his covers kicked away. Emotions surged through his veins as the events of the previous day rushed back to him; the confessions and flight, Noah's finding him and the return confession, the _kiss_ . . . they were _boyfriends_ now! The very realization nearly stopped Cody's heart. _Boyfriends!_

"Yeah?" Cody asked breathlessly as he wrenched open the door. "What is it?" Vaguely, he was aware that he was in his Power Ranger pajamas (not chosen by him) and his room was a mess, but he cast the thought aside. No time to worry about that now.

"May I come in?"

An icy sensation swept over Cody as if he'd been suddenly drenched in cold water. Something was wrong; Noah looked uncomfortable and unhappy, more so than Cody had ever seen him before. His eyes were dark and downcast, and he restlessly shifted his weight from foot to foot and back again. His long fingers were uncertainly entwined before him, as if to only hold himself physically together. And he was positively radiating fury; Cody didn't have to meet his eyes to know that.

Cody nodded mutely, stepping aside to allow Noah in, but he could hardly breathe for his nerves. What had happened? Maybe Noah wasn't gay, and he'd decided it wasn't worth pretending. Or maybe Cody had been such a bad kisser that he'd decided he couldn't be with him – Cody might have offended him when he was too shocked to respond. Or what if – what if they hadn't kissed _at all_, and it had been nothing more than a dream? He was feeling light-headed.

"Cody, are you alright?" Noah was staring at him, one eyebrow rising in concern. "You don't seem to be breathing."

Cody flushed scarlet, feeling his freckles joining up on his nose. "Y-yeah. I'm fine."

"If you say so."

"Really, I'm – I'm just trying to figure out why _you're_ here."

"Well, I'm not about to break up with you, if that's what you're thinking," Noah smirked, but it was half-hearted weak. "No, I have some . . . other bad news."

"Bad news?" Cody echoed. He didn't dare imagine what it could be; sure, he was _incredibly_ grateful that Noah wasn't going to dump him or anything – and that yesterday hadn't been a dream – but what if it were something far worse?

"Yeah," Noah answered softly as he cleared a small area from the dirty clothes strewn on the bed. "I wish I could tell you it wasn't that bad – but I don't know."

"What is it?"

Gingerly, Noah crossed his legs, but said nothing. And for a long moment, the silence stretched on in heavy anticipation. Cody nervously swallowed the lump in his throat, struggling fruitlessly to rein in his tumbling thoughts, and his gaze sought Noah's even as the bottom of his stomach dropped out. A sense of the apocalypse clenched at his mind; if even apathetic Noah couldn't pass it off as stupid or pointless . . .

"Catch."

A dark object sailed through the air, and startled, Cody fumbled it. He snatched it, scrambling as the object leapt from his fingers, but eventually rested resignedly in the palm of his hand. A tiny LED light glared back at him, the flash of red just barely visible between his fingers.

"It's a jamming device," Noah explained. "I built it when I came to the Playa."

"What for?"

"There are cameras everywhere, Cody. Chris never stopped watching us when we left the island, but whenever I need a little privacy, I use this."

"Are you serious?" Cody breathed. He should have guessed as much, he knew. Chris had a kind of love affair with his cameras, and it wasn't like him to leave _anyone_ in peace. Regardless, Cody was deeply disconcerted, an uneasy sense of having been stripped bare creeping down his spine even as he clenched the glowing jamming device in his fist.

"Yes, I'm serious," Noah replied. "But – in the jamming device – that's a new battery."

Cody felt cold. "And?"

"And . . . I'm sorry, Cody, but the jamming device died yesterday. Chris saw us kiss, and he plans to air it tonight." Noah's voice was soft, but strained, and his eyes smoldered with hate. "He thinks it's _funny_. The bastard."

But Cody was too shocked to care about Chris's ethics. He'd been discovered, exposed, and worse still, the truth about him would be revealed to the entire _nation_. Of course, he was furious that Chris would stoop so low, but he'd always _known_ Chris was a jerk. No, the real issue was more along the lines of the fact that his parents would be watching tonight.

"Oh, God, no!" Cody buried his face in his hands, groaning helplessly in anguish. "No, no, no, _no_!"

Noah looked disquieted, uncertain of how to comfort him. "Cody . . . ," he murmured.

"Isn't there anything we can do?"

Ruefully, Noah shook his head. "I can't think of anything, unfortunately," he confessed to his toes. He couldn't meet Cody's gaze, not when he knew how much Cody was relying on him to put things right. Noah's eyes were burning; tears of anger and indignation hit the back of his throat, threatening to overwhelm him. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay," Cody whispered, but it was weak, fading into nothingness almost before it reached Noah's ears. He sighed. "I wish . . ."

"Yeah?"

"No, it's just . . . I'd ask if there was anyone who could help, but who would we _tell_? Although, if Chris airs it, they'll all know anyway."

"Hey, Cody." Something flashed across Noah's face, like a bolt of pure energy and excitement. Gone was his discomfort, gone was his frustration; suddenly, his eyes were bright with inspiration.

Bewildered, but hope daringly creeping into his expression, Cody stared up at him. "Yeah?"

Noah looked deeply proud of himself, and his dark eyes flashed dangerously with the smirk Cody knew only too well. "Well," he literally _purred_. "What would you say to someone who knows about _me_ and loved – convinced of, actually – the idea of _us_?"

"Could – could they help?" Ordinarily, Cody wouldn't have been so readily accepting; he would have been uncomfortable and wary, wanting to know who specifically, and exactly how much they knew. But at the moment, there were much more pressing matters to attend to.

"Perhaps, or perhaps not," Noah answered, not pretending for a second that they'd found a foolproof solution. At the same time however, he looked almost _hopeful_. "Either way, it's worth a shot."

Cody nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes were still somewhat troubled. "Yeah. You're – you're sure, right?"

"Of course," Noah assured him. "Now, come on, Power Ranger –," he glanced pointedly at Cody's pajamas. "– get changed so we can go."

Cody flushed, suddenly self-conscious once more. He folded his arms before him in an attempt to cover as much of the incriminating pattern as possible, nervously scurrying away even as he glared indignantly at Noah. And behind him, Noah's lilting laughter rang in the air, soft and bell-like for all its cynicism of the world around them.

------------------------

As Cody busied himself in the bathroom, Noah arranged the meeting with the would-be aide. Cody strained at the door to overhear, curious as to whom Noah would have trusted enough to tell, but he only managed to catch the hushed undertones of ambiguous words. And nor did Noah choose to enlighten him of any details.

Once freed from the humiliating grips of his pajamas, Cody allowed Noah to lead him out of his room. But the air was silent, for each had retreated into his own thoughts, desperately attempting to make sense of the situation on hand, and a soft fog of detachment had fallen over the two.

They would be doing all they could to stop Chris, but Cody could not help but to wonder what would happen if it wasn't enough – despite the fact that the very idea was almost too hard to bear. It was his anxieties of telling Noah all over again, but this time, it was terrifyingly, sickeningly plausible. It would actually happen, were they to admit defeat by Chris's hand, and as of the moment, neither was sure what they even planned to _attempt_. If they did fail, they would be exposed across Canada to family, friends, acquaintances, enemies, an even to the thousands of strangers they had yet to meet in their lifetime. Nowhere could they be forced endure countless newly-incurred titles of "Queer One" and "Queer Two", but would be forced to endure countless consequences from the hundreds who each thought that their opinion was more important than the next. Even allies would see him as the gay guy form television first, and as simply _Cody_ second.

And his parents – his parents! – would feel hurt and alienated. They'd always urged him to be unfailingly open with them and to trust in them if no one else. And they'd always been patient and understanding, even when he was trying just a bit too hard to be popular. And yet, they would learn about him and Noah from _television_. Cody was desperate and positively furious; it wasn't right that his parents couldn't discover the truth from their own son. They deserved far more than that, and far more than the ridiculing way he _knew _Chris would disclose it to them.

Cody had always planned to come out to his parents. Christian faith or no, Cody loved them, and they loved him back. He'd always been close to them, and if homosexuality was going to be a part of him, they had the full right to know. What they did with that right was up to them – although he hoped desperately that they'd choose to accept and support – but he would _not_ betray their trust with secrecy of subterfuge. He would break it to them gently, dutifully accepting whatever reaction they faced him with.

And Chris wanted to destroy that. He _wanted_ Cody's parents to find out cruelly and impersonally, amused at the idea that they would be hurt their own son didn't trust them enough to confide in. But Cody _did _trust them, and he couldn't let Chris ruin it. If he was going to be forced to come out early to his parents, _he _was going to be the one to do it, Cody resolved. And Chris would have no say in the matter. In a worst-case scenario, Cody would call his parents himself, at least a full hour before it was scheduled to air, giving them time to recuperate and peace of mind that he trusted them. They would not be in the dark.

But then again, that was a worst-case scenario. Although Cody planned to eventually come out to his parents, he wasn't fully ready to quite yet. He wanted – he needed – at least another week to get used to the idea himself, and he knew that if he were to tell them tonight, he would be insecure, frightened, and helpless. He _would_ tell them, if need be, but he knew they would sense it, and it would be that much harder for them to accept him and Noah as a couple. No, it would be far better if Chris could be stopped, if Cody had time to prepare. And if Noah couldn't think of anything, he could only hope that whoever Noah was bringing him to meet could.

As his thoughts turned to matters closer at hand, his anxieties began to mount yet again. Perhaps earlier, Cody had dismissed the relevancy of the mystery person's identity, but with other issues being safely dealt with, his pervious, more fleeting worries returned. After all, he had no idea who it was he was about to come out to or how much they knew. It wasn't that he was frightened of their reaction; Noah would never have him come out to someone unsupportive. But he wanted to know _how _they'd found out, or _why_ Noah had opened up to them. He wanted to know _who _most of all – who was he entrusting his secret to? Who did Noah trust enough to tell? Who were they relying on to stop Chris in his tracks? He'd tried asking Noah, but Noah had simply shaken his head, insisting that Cody would find out when they got there, and that he needn't worry. But Cody couldn't help feeling apprehensive.

Then Noah turned into the dining hall, and Cody felt his stomach lurch. It was the moment of truth; the mystery person's identity would be revealed, Cody would come out for the first time besides Noah, and they would know if there was any hope of beating Chris at his own game. There was so much hinging on it, Cody almost wanted to run back to bed and retreat to the detached bliss of his dreams. But of course, then Chris would have to thank him for the ease Cody permitted him at ruining his life.

Squaring his shoulders, Cody took a deep, steadying breath and followed Noah in.

There were already a few ex-campers scattered throughout the room, each drowsily picking at his or her breakfast, and Cody could not help but to eye them warily. Which one was Noah's mysterious confidant – perhaps Ezekiel, who was nearly as much as a loner as Noah was himself? But no, Ezekiel would never be able to gasp the seriousness of the situation – or _any_ social situation for that matter. Or perhaps Eva, with her iron fists and fiery temper? Dear God, Cody hoped not!

"Hey, Cody," Noah murmured his breath. "Go get something to drink – I'll call you over when we're ready." He jerked his head towards the buffet table encouragingly, even as he strode in the opposite direction.

But Cody didn't move. He needed to know _who_, and he couldn't even think of food at the moment. As Cody watched, Noah stalked past Ezekiel, Courtney, Beth, and Eva (thank God!) without faltering, his stride casual but purposefully. Cody's breath caught in his throat; Noah was heading towards _Geoff_.

Just then, Noah paused, urging Cody wordlessly to busy himself with the buffet already. And, startled into action, Cody hastened to oblige. Numbly, he began to fill a glass with low-fat milk, but inwardly, his mind was racing.

He couldn't believe it; _Geoff_ was Noah's secret confidant? And Cody had thought they'd barely even exchanged two words before! Sure, Geoff would be friendly enough about it, but Cody couldn't imagine introverted, cynical Noah trusting a _partyboy_ with some of his darkest thoughts – what had he missed?

Noah had slid into the seat across form Geoff, a friendly smirk plastered across his face. Geoff, too, had a kindly sparkle in his eye, and as he leaned forward, Cody strained to hear what they were saying. They spoke in soft whispers, just barely audible over the hum of dining hall; Cody stepped closer, his heart pounding.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet me down here," Noah was saying. "And I apologize for waking you up when I called."

"Oh, not a problem, dude," Geoff assured him. "But what's up? Why're we here?"

"This." Noah pushed something across the table, and as Cody craned his neck for a better view, he recognized the jamming device from earlier. Once again, the red light was glowing, cloaking them all in privacy from Chris's prying eyes.

"Man, I remember this!" Geoff laughed, scooping it up. "It's so the cameras can't see us, right?"

"Yes, but there's a problem." Noah's voice was soft, but urgent, and his gaze raked the room for eavesdroppers nervously.

Alarmed, Geoff peered at Noah uncertainly. "A problem? Don't tell me Chris found out!"

"Hush," Noah urged, although his carefully-arranged expression showed no outward emotion. "Let's finish this conversation outside, alright?" He plucked the jamming device from Geoff's open palm and shoved it into his pocket, his face still eerily, ominously blank.

"Oh, yeah, sure!" Geoff hastily replied, leaping up from his seat.

"Thank you." Then Noah raised his voice. "Cody, follow us."

And as Geoff glanced up sharply, seeing Cody for the first time, his face fell slack. Geoff's jaw dropped, not in the obvious manner of a shocked realization, but more subtly, as if he didn't dare believe what he saw. His eyes grew wide, shining with suppressed excitement, and he had frozen dead in his tracks as his gaze darted frantically from Noah to Cody and back again.

"Oh, my God," he gasped. "Dude, are you –?"

"_Outside_, idiot," Noah hissed.

Properly chastised, Geoff nodded mutely, but Cody could see that he was quite literally trembling with the urgency of his unspoken question; as Cody fell in step with them, it was clearly taking the entirety of Geoff's self-control not to gape openly at him. he still stared, of course, but at least it was discreet.

However, the moment the door shut behind them, Geoff exploded.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" he demanded. "Tell me, please; tell me before – I don't know what, man – but just _tell me_, already!" His eyes were positively wild, desperate, and anticipatory, and an ear-to-ear grin was plastered across his face.

"Calm _down_, Geoff." Noah rolled his eyes, and, and eager to get his own two-bit in, Cody offered Geoff his own sympathetic smile.

"Then what is it?"

"Well . . ." Tantalizingly, Noah drew out the word, a smirk toying at the edge of his lips. His lips twinkled with a mischievous playfulness, and he slowly reached out to take Cody's hand in his own with feather-like care. "Congratulations, Geoff; you did it. Cody and I are a couple."

Cody nodded mutely, feeling the color rush to his cheeks. As friendly as Geoff was, it was impossible to forget just _what_ he was confessing to, and the weight it held on the entire course of his life. It didn't at all help that Noah was holding his hand; the nerves in his hand seemed to have super-sensitized, coursing jolts of pure energy up his arm.

Geoff, however, was dumbstruck. Once more, his eyes had widened, jaw dropping like a stone, and it seemed all words had left him. But the near-hopeful anticipation from earlier had given out to exhilaration and even pride.

"Breathe, Geoff," Noah reminded him helpfully, and it seemed that the advice finally broke through his immobilizing shock.

"Totally awesome, dudes!" Geoff laughed, holding up his hands to slap each a high-five. Grinning, Cody did not hesitate to oblige, but Noah just gave him a look that clearly read: "_Who do you think I am?"_ Undaunted, however, Geoff warmly clapped him on the back. "I told _you _this would happen!"

"You told him that?" Cody's nerves were evaporating by each passing second, leaving him with nothing but the blissful sensation of flying and possibly-foolish courage.

"Yep – every day, really," Geoff gloated proudly. "But come on – let's see a kiss!"

Cody flushed furiously, feeling the ghost of Noah's lips against his own as they moved as they had yesterday. His heart fluttered like a butterfly in his chest, and his palms were suddenly hot and clammy. But Noah hadn't moved. Sheepishly, Cody licked his lips as if to wash away the memory of yesterday's kiss.

"It's not the time for that," Noah told Geoff curtly. "Unfortunately, there is some bad news as well."

Geoff's face fell. "Oh, yeah, you mentioned that there were some problems."

"Quite. You see, the battery in the jamming device died, and Chris saw us kissing. He's putting it on tonight's episode of _Total Drama Island_."

"And I haven't told my parents yet," Cody put in.

Geoff looked positively appalled. "He can't do that, man!" he gasped, horrorstruck.

But Noah simply nodded grimly. "He can, and he will – unless we do something to stop him."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, Geoff, I really don't." Noah sighed. "I've already offered to let him air _everything_ about me if he leaves Cody out of it, seeing as all my friends and family already know. But he wasn't interested."

"Wait you offered _what_?" Cody demanded, rounding on him with eyes of steely indignity.

"It's nothing important –"

"It is _too _important! Why would you do that? It's the entire _country_ we're talking about, not just your mom and dad!"

"Yeah, but it's better I do than you, Power Ranger," Noah answered dryly, infuriatingly unshaken. "I don't mind facing the response of Canada."

"But –!"

Suddenly, Geoff coughed, drawing their attention to him. "As much as I hate to break up your little lover's quarrel –," he raised a warning eyebrow at their reproachful glares. "– aren't we supposed to stopping Chris?"

"I suppose," Cody answered begrudgingly. "But we don't have any ideas. That's why we're talking to you."

"What kind of ideas do you need?"

Noah shrugged, casting Cody an amused, side-long glance as he answered Geoff. "We've already established that Chris isn't willing to participate in civil negotiation; therefore, we need to use blackmail or physically _steal_ the footage – in which case we need transportation."

"Transportation, eh?" Geoff mused thoughtfully, but a smug expression was creeping over his face. "I think I may be able to help you, dudes."

"No kidding?" Cody pressed.

"No kidding. But just one thing . . ."

"Yes?"

"Why did he call you 'Power Ranger'?"

Cody turned scarlet.

------------------------

**This chapter is dedicated to all the gays in India who are no longer criminals. That's right – as of July 2****nd****, 2009, the New Delhi High Court has revisited Section 377! And for those of you who didn't read my last Author's Note, Section 377 is a 150-year old law instigated by the British that stated that homosexual intercourse, even in private, was strictly illegal, but the High Court revised it, allowing safe-sex intercourse between consenting adults while maintaining the ban on rape and pedophilia. Way to go, India!**

**Of course, religious conservatives are throwing a fit, but they'll deal. Today, only five countries – Mauritania, Sudan, Iran, Saudi Arabia, and Yemen – deem homosexuality punishable by death, whereas 115 – which I won't list for space restraints – have completely legalized homosexual activity. I thumb my nose at thee, radical religion!**

**~ KiraKira-Kirimi**

**EDIT: In the previous chapters, foods have been changed in order to coincide with Cody's hypoglycemic diet. My mother (a doctor) nearly had a heart attack when she read what I had him eating. XD**


	23. Le Barrage

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 23 ~ Le Barrage (The Roadblock)**

The spray of seawater was soft against Cody's face as it basked him in a cool, refreshing mist. Droplets ran down his cheeks like tears, and he licked his lips, tasting the salty brine that the water had left in its wake. The spray washed away his fraying nerves, and the wind whistled gently in his ear. Chris was nothing; he knew they could stop him without so much as breaking a sweat, now that they had their transportation. And what on earth could an arrogant television host do in the face of Noah's mind, or the fiery loyalty and determination of the others? Cody's spirits soared, convinced of their ultimate victory, and he closed his eyes, relishing in the presence of the sea.

Geoff had truly outdone himself, and his efforts alone were enough to convince Cody of the end of Chris's plans. Not only did he produce a mode of transportation to the island, but he somehow managed to scour up three more allies to add to – and double – their ranks. Expectedly, Bridgette had been the first to show up – but she was then followed by LeShawna and a young maid he recognized vaguely from a certain, brief excursion to a freezer. Of course, it wasn't that Cody exactly _disapproved_ of either the maid or LeShawna; rather, it was more or the fact that he was simply surprised by their presence. LeShawna, in particular, was a close friend of Gwen's, and while this ensured by Cody found her trustworthy and dependable, he couldn't help but to feel anxious about her. After all, it had been to LeShawna that Gwen had complained to when Cody had been at his most bothersome, and she would be fully within her rights to judge him for turning to Noah so soon after his persistence back on the island. Of course, Cody wouldn't hesitate to defend himself; there was simply something different about Noah, something that neither Gwen nor anyone else had even come close to. But, thankfully, LeShawna hadn't wanted the explanation.

The maid surprised Cody most of all. She'd been a kind maid, and he remembered the way she'd ever-so-humbly stroked his ego, but she was incurably shy. He couldn't imagine, for the life of him, where she would have found the audacity to risk her employment (and neck) for his sake and Noah's. Yet, she'd proven herself in possession of a hidden vein of courage strong enough to devote herself to their cause, even producing the keys to Chris's motorboat.

Something was prodding Cody gently, and, pulled from the companionship of his own mind, he cracked his eyes open. Salt water trickled off the ends of his lashes, stinging his eyes, but he nevertheless managed to greet Noah with a broad grin.

"Hey," he said. "'Sup?"

The corner of Noah's lips twisted upwards in a wry, half-smile, but his eyes were mesmerizingly gentle. He had been extraordinarily tender towards Cody since the truth had come out about the footage – not at all like the usual Noah, and it somewhat disconcerted Cody.

"Nothing particularly interesting. What about you? Are you hanging on there?"

Cody's smile faltered somewhat. "Yes. I'm fine."

He had no doubt that he was receiving special treatment, and he was deeply bothered. The Noah he knew would coddle him and his fears; the Noah he knew would have laughed at him for his anxiety, tactlessly ridiculing him with well-placed comments. But Cody _wanted_ to be benevolently teased. He didn't like being treated as if he were delicate, about to fall apart at any given moment, and every time Noah watched him with concern in his eyes, Cody felt himself writhe in distaste.

He _knew_ Noah was capable of being – what was in Cody's mind – a better boyfriend. Just the previous night, Noah had teased him openly, casually unconcerned for Cody's "delicate" ego. In fact, Cody had been certain that, had he taken the stinging words to heart, Noah would have never cared for him in the same way. Cody, himself, wanted to be with Noah because of who Noah _was_, not because of how he treated Cody, but the constant worrying was straining something deeply.

It wasn't that Cody wanted to break up with Noah – it was far too early to condemn him, but, by God, he wanted his old friend back. He used to be able to tell Noah everything, and he never had to explain or clarify. It'd seemed as if they had been on the same brain wave, two parts to a whole, even in their differences. And they'd been equals. Cody could gripe without being coddled, and, when he felt it was due, Noah would sympathize. Or, he would mock Cody if he felt the sympathy _wasn't _due, and Cody would tease him right back. They'd known each other fully, in their virtues _and_ vices, and their friendship had slowly grown to something more. At the time, Cody had been convinced it would be perfect.

For a long moment, silence fell on the boat as Cody gazed wistfully across the waves. Noah was watching him carefully, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Cody," he said finally, once again yanking Cody's head from the clouds. "Are you sure about this? It's okay if you want to go back; we can carry on ourselves."

Cody let out an inward groan, but forced himself to smile up at him blankly. "I'm _fine_, Noah. Besides, you can't replace me in the plan." He refused to look into Noah's eyes. Anywhere but his eyes – if he looked there, he'd see the Noah he didn't know, the one he didn't want.

The boat was slowing, and the spray washing Cody's face began to settle into the gentle waves of Lake Wawanakwa. Cody stared up at the dark cliff looming overhead, determined to ignore the way Noah's gaze was burning into the back of his neck, misinterpreting each of his actions. He was indescribably grateful that Noah understood his anxieties about coming out, but the old Noah wouldn't have let that one fear be reason to emotionally spoil him. Cody set his jaw furiously. He wouldn't think of this now, and besides, once the entire escapade was over, perhaps Noah would return to his own self, without any outside help.

"Oi, dudes!" Geoff called from the bow of the boat, where he'd been inquisitively watching the maid work the controls. "Everybody ready? Remember your part?"

"No one dared reply, as if suddenly frightened that so much as a whispered "yes" would alert Chris to their presence. But he was met with five pairs of fiery eyes that spoke louder than if they'd whopped and stamped their feet.

Geoff grinned, and, finally struck by the same muteness that plagued the others, flashed them a thumbs-up.

"Let's go."

The word wasn't spoken aloud, but it simultaneously rang in each person's thoughts like a gong. It was the spark of energy that flared within each of them, raging with excitement, indignation, and loyalty as it rushed through their veins.

Bridgette leapt off the boat with a long length of rope, wading the last ten feet to shore where she securely fastened the boat to a nearby pine. The moment the anchor was in place, the maid drew up a shawl around her chin and covered her face and hair; she wouldn't be left with the jamming device, and she wanted to keep her job, thank you very much.

Excitedly, Geoff took a flying leap off the boat, and the moment his feet touched the ground, he was off splashing through the waves as if he were having the time of his life. Cody was fast on his heels, and Noah and LeShawna brought up the rear, each plodding unhappily through in the water with their pants rolled up and shoes slung over their shoulders. Of course, this meant the others had to lounge about idly while Noah and LeShawna struggled back into their shoes, but no one complained. No one wanted to risk Chris overhearing their presence – and secrecy was key.

Once his pants were unrolled and his laces done up, Noah sprang to his feet and drew the jamming device from his pocket. Fleetingly, he glanced at it as if to assure himself the red light still flashed, that the cameras were still blind, and then he tossed it to Bridgette. She caught it deftly, covering the glowing red eye in her fist as she flashed him a bright grin. Curtly, he nodded. The plan was in action.

Under the watchful gaze of the others, Noah strode into the woods, sporting the proudest and most arrogant air he could muster. His chin was high, his eyes were sharp, and a vicious sneer had plastered itself across his face; he stared at even the smallest rock with the utmost contempt. And although Cody knew that the disdain was only feigned, he could not help but to wish that he could bottle it and release a little the next time Noah tried to baby him.

But no, Cody had promised himself he wouldn't think of that.

The moment Noah stepped over the boundary between beach and forest, Geoff held up his hands and began to count down the seconds. Ten seconds, they'd agreed, would be adequate time for Noah to lurk just a little ahead of the rest; after all, Noah was still to be covered by the jamming device in Bridgette's pocket, but the others were to be well out of eyesight of anyone who encountered Noah.

Three . . . two . . . one.

The others started off after Noah, tiptoeing even as dead pine needles crackled underfoot. Not one of them dared cross so much as a toe onto the trail; only Noah was meant to be in the open, whereas their place was in the bushes and ferns. The underbrush creaked and snapped under their brusque touch, for all their efforts of keeping quiet, but they didn't particularly care. Noah would warn them when someone came within earshot.

On cue, the cry came: "Chris! You _bastard_!" Just as they had planned, Noah's voice rang high and clear, credulously furious, but loud enough to raise a cloud a birds from the treetops. The four skirting the trail exchanged grim looks of dark satisfaction, diving into the bushes and out of sight just as Chris swaggered into view.

From between the brambles of his bush, Cody could just barely make out an expression of boiling hatred set upon Noah's face. And he knew that disgust, that fury, was no mask; unlike the exaggerated contempt Noah had expressed earlier, Noah felt every bite, every drop of venom he laced on Chris's name. Even if he hadn't been the logical choice to confront Chris head on, there was no doubt Noah would have insisted he be allowed to role, if simply for the chance to vent his rage. Of course, Cody couldn't help to wonder that had _he _not been involved, perhaps Noah would have treated Chris like anyone else Noah didn't particularly like – with disdain and pity, rather than fury.

Cody grit his teeth. He would _not _think about this now.

Chris laughed, patting Noah mockingly on the shoulder. Furiously, Noah hissed and shook him off, but Chris didn't seem to have noticed. "Noah, my sweet, fruity money-maker! I thought it was you; my computers went all fuzzy again. What's up, man?"

"I think you know what the _hell _is up," Noah spat. "You'd better give me that footage you . . . you unscrupulous troglodyte!"

"Fallen to trying to make me feel stupid, have we? Tsk, tsk, that's mighty low."

"Who are you to tell me what's low?"

"Touché." Chris sniggered. "But I don't really _feel_ like giving you the footage right now."

"You –!"

"Now, don't get yourself all in a tizzy. I feel so bad about you coming all this way, so why don't you join me for a nice cappuccino?"

Noah laughed, but it was high and strained, overflowing with scornful ridicule. "Join _you_? Not even in your dreams, Chris."

"Ah, well," Chris sighed. "I _did _offer . . . well, I suppose you'd just better go back to the Playa."

"Not until you hand over that footage!"

Cody had been so intent on watching the exchange, he hadn't noticed the soft, furtive footsteps creeping up behind him, and when something tapped his shoulder, he nearly let out a scream.

"Calm down, boy; it's just me," LeShawna hissed. "Lord! You're as jumpy as a rabbit!"

"Sorry," Cody whispered sheepishly.

"No need to apologize. Now, why dontcha tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_," LeShawna replied patiently. "I've seen you eyeing your boy Noah funny all day. What's up between you two?"

"Oh." Cody let his gaze drop to the ground, as if having developed a sudden interest in the rotting leaves. He hadn't realized he'd been noticeable, and he wondered who else could have seen. In particular, he desperately hoped that Noah hadn't noticed him, as LeShawna put it, "eyeing him funny". After all, although he wished Noah would return to his old self, Cody didn't want to hurt him.

"Well? What is it?"

"Nothing," Cody replied, forcing a bright smile onto his face. "Really, it's just . . ." He trailed off uncertainly. He trusted her, yes, but would she really understand?

"Just?"

"It's nothing."

But LeShawna simply let out an exasperated sigh and stubbornly shook her head. "It's too early to be having problems, boy! Best to get them over with now before they turn into some kind of monster!"

"But there wouldn't _be_ any problems if Chris hadn't interfered!"

LeShawna looked scandalized, and Cody felt his heart sink with the realization that she'd completely misinterpreted what he'd said. "Boy!" she gasped. "You aren't thinking about breaking up with him because Chris saw you? That wouldn't do a thing!"

"No!" Cody insisted. "I mean, that's not what I was saying!"

"Then what _were _you saying?"

Disheartened but obliged to respond, Cody sighed heavily. "It's just that. . . Noah's been babying me," he murmured to the brambles.

"Babying? What're you talking about?"

"Like . . . he's treating me like I'm about to have a mental breakdown or something. He's always asking if I'm okay."

LeShawna laughed softly, doing her best to smother her giggles in fear that Chris might hear. "Boy, you're some kind of crazy if you think that's a problem! He's just worried about you 'cause he cares."

"But!" And even as he answered, Cody knew he was floundering. She just couldn't grasp what he was trying to say."

"But _nothing_. Cody, you're just suffering from your masculine ego. You'll get over it, and then you'll realize there's a million people in the world that would do anything to have a boy who treats them right like yours does."

Cody nodded, but he wasn't comforted. It wasn't his ego; he was _asking _to be teased and ridiculed, and he knew LeShawna wouldn't understand, even if he'd tried to explain. At least in his mind, being "treated right" didn't mean spoiled. It was being understood and accepted for whom he was, and when _both _could simply be themselves.

Ironically, Cody felt that the only one who could truly understand was Noah. But Noah was shouting at Chris, upbraiding him for the way he planned to "hurt Cody", and Cody heaved an inward groan. He could only pray that Noah's ferocious protection of him would soon mellow out, that the boy he'd kissed would return when the danger had passed. No one else had _known _Cody like Noah did, but Noah seemed to have forgotten everything.

"I'll offer it again," Noah spat at Chris. "You take Cody out of this whole deal, and I'll come out on national television and say anything else you want me to say. I'll humiliate myself in any way you'd like."

But Chris was unimpressed. "Now, why would I do that? Your family back home already knows about you. But Cody's parents don't – and can you _imagine_ their shock when they discover that their perfect little son is a Sodomite?"

"Don't say that."

"But it's _true_," Chris replied in a sing-song voice. "That's what will be going through their thoughts when they find out. Or did you not think of that when you seduced him?"

This was too much for Noah. He flew at Chris furiously, his eyes aflame and his untrained fists swinging wildly. "Shut – up!" he spat out between blows, flailing desperately at everything within reach. But Chris only laughed, ducking out the way of the worst blows and mocking Noah as his punches glanced harmlessly off his shoulder.

"Is that the best you can do?" Chris teased. "Come on, my _grandmother_ can hit harder than that!"

But then, in mid-laugh, he froze. His elated, mocking expression turned dark and steely, and a grim smile quirked at his lips. Across his face, four identical ruts had gouged themselves upon his cheek, each perfectly aligned with the shape of Noah's hand. Blood began to well up in the scratch, and, as if in shock, Chris gingerly brushed his own fingers across it. He winced at the contact, his eyes beginning to smolder dangerously – but Noah seemed oddly, apathetically unfazed.

"Whoops," Noah said. The trembling rage in his voice had given out, replaced by a peculiar sense of boredom, and it was as if he had suddenly slapped himself back into sanity. But, of course, Cody knew that the fury of earlier, for all its wildcat ferocity, had been nothing more than a sham. Noah had never truly lost his temper. And if Chris had taken a moment to think, he, too, would have realized that Noah kept his head about him far too well to have truly flown into such a frenzied rage.

But, as expected, Chris saw nothing more than the simple reality that his face had been scratched. His beautiful, powerful cheekbones had been marred – mere hours before he was to appear before the cameras for the semifinals. To Chris, such an offense was unforgiveable.

Noah hadn't moved, but all the same, Chris snatched his arm and twisted it to inhumane degrees as if he'd lunged for his throat. "I think that's enough," Chris snapped. "Come with me."

"Not quietly, I won't."

Even as he kicked at leaves and sticks, resisting all attempts to direct him down the path, there was a smirk plastered across Noah's lips. His eyes glimmered with a satisfaction that should have alerted Chris that all was not as it should be. But Chris was pitifully, stubbornly ignorant.

Concealed safely beneath the noise of Noah's struggles, the other four crept slowly closer. Chris was their unwilling guide; he was oblivious to their presence, but all the same, he had been slowed by Noah's resistance to their own, careful painstaking pace. He was well and truly wrapped around their finger, and he would never be any the wiser.

The struggle through the woods only lasted about five minutes, but it felt like an eon. At each accidentally snapped twig and rustle of leaves, all four would freeze with baited breath – even if Noah had toppled a log at that precise moment. Everything hinged on their secrecy; the second Chris realized they were there was the second all hope fell through. And not one of them was going to be the reason their plan failed, if they could help it. Chris may be a puppet in their grasp, but it was an infinitely delicate balance that could be upset with a single wrong step.

The forest darkened; the trees loomed menacingly overhead, and the underbrush turned to thick, hostile brambles. The four skirting the trail found their pace suddenly slowed, the vicious thorns clinging to their clothes, scraping their exposed skin as they struggled to overstep tangles of bushes and dead branches. But, safely sheltered on the overgrowth-free trail, Noah didn't notice, and he failed to increase his own struggles against Chris. Little by little, Chris pulled away, growing smaller and less-distinct in the vision of the four.

And as if they needed any more strain, Cody suddenly gasped; something had snagged at his pants, well and truly ensnaring his leg. He dared not tear his eyes away from Chris and Noah's retreating figures, but he could hardly move his foot for its trap. He shook his leg desperately, fruitlessly attempting to dislodge himself. But the brambles scraped at his ankle, as if chastising him for his impatience, and Cody fought back a yelp. Frustration and anxiety were beginning to tug at his nerves; he needed to get free.

Painstakingly carefully, Cody knelt to the forest floor, not once letting his eyes wander from the bright red of Noah's vest. His fingers ran down his ensnared leg and batted away the stray, irrelevant twig. And his hands, wrought with nerves, seemed to have super-sensitized, but they did not tremble as they traced the snare. A small length of vine had wrapped itself around Cody's ankle, its long thorns digging viciously into his pants. Cruel hooks grazed warningly at his skin, and Cody's fingers were desperately gentle in hopes of not offending the sharp points. But one, particularly sensitive thorn was not impressed; a jolt of pain shot up his wrist, making him hiss in pain, and he looked down to see a drop of wine-red blood well up at his fingertip.

Furiously, Cody ripped his leg away from the vine, not caring as resentful thorns grazed his flesh or as the vine came away with a vicious _snap_. He stumbled forward, the broken vine encircling his leg like a snapped manacle.

But Noah and Chris had already vanished.

Cody's breath caught in his throat, and his chest tightened with numb disbelief. But there was no one to blame but himself; afterall, it had been he who'd looked away, he who'd allowed himself to be distracted by the stupid vine. He should have never let himself be bothered, but he'd lost sight of Noah and Chris because of his complete _idiocy_, and there was no telling if there was a fork in the trail up ahead, or if Chris might choose to suddenly deviate from the path.

Of course, there was no rational reason as to why he should solely blame himself. A hasty, guilty glance around him told him that Geoff, Bridgette, and LeShawna had all lost sight of their quarry and were just as anxious and bewildered as he. Yet, Cody found – in his own mind, at least – he was not the slightest bit more innocent than had all three managed to keep their eye on Noah and Chris when he hadn't.

However, despite his frustration, Cody's pace didn't slow, and nor did that of his companions. For, lost quarry or no, admitting their defeat was simply not an option. Not one of them was willing to surrender based on a single, non-descript kink in their plans – and it would be non-descript if they handled it correctly. It went without saying, of course, that "handled correctly" was by no means equitable with defeat; it would take much more than _that_ to make them give up.

And their mulish stubbornness paid off. By the time they reached the point at which Noah and Chris had vanished, it was quite obvious exactly where they'd gone. Cody felt a great wave of relief wash over him; not only were they plans miraculously saved, but he was hardly at fault for losing sight of them in the first place. Even had he managed to keep his eye on them unwaveringly, he would have eventually seen them disappear nonetheless. After all, they _had _been swallowed up by the Earth.

A dark, ominous cave yawned before the four, bearing its great stone fangs at them. Vegetation rotted about its entrance, and a fortress of boulders promised a hostile welcoming committee. Indeed, had Cody not been positively certain that Noah was held captive deep within the belly of this dragon of a cave, he would have found it quite within his best interest to turn on his heel and never return. But as he _was_, in fact, positively certain that Noah was there, Cody tilled his nerves with a deep breath and stepped closer.

Geoff, Bridgette, and LeShawna did not follow. Their duties did not involve the cave – at least, not yet. Rather, Cody was to venture on into the eerie blackness alone, the echo of his footsteps the only company he was permitted. But if the thought bothered him, he did not show it. He squared his shoulders sternly against the monsters he imagine were lurking only a stone's toss away, set his jaw in reprimand of failure itself, and allowed the darkness to consume him.

Slowly, his eyes adjusted, and the dark edges of rock were just barely distinguishable in his colorless vision. But it wasn't his eyes, he corrected himself; from deep within the dark tunnel emanated a soft, ethereal glow. And as Cody descended, leaving the bright sunlit world above him, the glow grew brighter, somewhat more distinct. Now it was clearly the pale, ghostly flickering light that was characteristic only of television screens – Cody's heart lightened, for now he was certain he was in the right place. The tunnel opened up, emptying into a vast room that was by no means naturally-made. The corners were too perfect, and the walls had been rubbed down to shining, flat stone that looked as if it were made of black tile.

Cody peered in warily, not risking a reckless plunge into what could be the arms of the beast. His eyes stung in close proximity of the glaring white light, and the soft hum of a generator filled his ears – but, thankfully, neither Noah nor Chris was anywhere in sight. The tunnel continued on the other end of the room, and Cody could only assume they'd gone deeper. Heaving a deep breath, Cody stepped in.

He had never imagined that Chris surveyed them so in-depth. The entirety of the small room was papered with small television screens, each of which portrayed another scene of either the Playa or island, and as not one screen was wider than ten inches, Cody doubted there was an unwatched square foot anywhere. It was positively frightening, really, tot think that _every minute _of his life, during and after the show, had been unscrupulously monitored. He swallowed, resolving to ask Noah as soon as possible for a jamming device of his own.

There was a large control panel situated smugly against the right-hand wall, its enormous size properly befitting of the innumerable cameras, and it was this that Cody hesitantly approached. At first, the mess of buttons, switches, levers, and keys bewildered him, and he suddenly thought, his stomach churning, that there was no way he could do what he'd planned. But then, the longer he stared at it, the less it looked as if a recording studio had taken steroids; he recognized a few controls – and there! Cody gazed adoringly at the simple, familiar computer that served as the motherboard of the entire operation. The open busy screen was nothing more than complete stupidity on Chris's part, but it was exactly the kind of programming Cody could deal with. He settled himself before the glowing computer, swinging the keyboard out from under it, and as his fingers fell upon the home row, Cody felt himself completely and utterly at home. This was his natural habitat, and he needn't even think as his fingers flew across the keys.

Cody didn't bother with the program Chris had open, and the mouse, too, lay untouched as he called up the command prompt, his fingers spewing out a scrawl of text almost before the window had even appeared. In less than thirty seconds, he leaned back, a proud grin placed firmly upon his lips.

One by one, the television screens monitoring the campers lost their signal, consumed by a storm of salt-and-pepper feeds. The wave of nothingness swept over the room, and the buzz of static grew to a startling intensity to cover even the hum of the generator. Cody felt a surge of pride rush through his veins; the effect was staggering, as if he were the center of the universe, with each and every camera bending to his will. And when the last signal had finally vanished, the computer beeped, as if in good-bye, and winked out as well. The entire system had crashed.

Suddenly, Cody was aware that he wasn't alone in the room. A chill ran down his neck, making his skin prickle with goose bumps. The grin slid from his face, and he turned slowly, as if bracing himself for a storm to break loose.

Chris stood behind him, looking positively faint. Indeed, Cody was certain that he'd never seen him so flustered; his skin was white, eyes wide and smoldering, and his nostrils were flared in either terror or rage – it wasn't clear which.

"What the _hell_ did you do?" Chris demanded, but his voice was weak as he desperately stared at the buzzing screens. "Why did you touch anything?"

Well, Cody thought that was rather obvious. "Sorry," he murmured – although he most certainly was _not_. "I just wanted the footage . . ."

"Of course the footage isn't in the computer; I moved it to a CD. Do you think I'm an idiot? And look what you've done!"

Cody had been well-aware the footage hadn't been stored in the computer, but it wasn't that he was _actually_ trying to take the footage. Regardless, Cody hung his head in the personification of failure, doing his best to look stung and hurt. Just as he'd told Chris he was after the footage, he was to make it seem as believable as possible that crashing the system _hadn't _been his intention, and although he wasn't nearly as good an actor as Noah, it seemed to be working. Chris continued to rant and rave like a madman, color slowly returning to his cheeks.

"You've destroyed my camera system, and I need to get it up and running for tonight's episode! No, in the next hour, because we start filming the challenge! What the _hell_ am I supposed to do?"

"Call a technician?" Cody offered helpfully.

"Yeah, if they can _get _here in time," Chris retorted. He groaned, adding as an afterthought: "And here I thought your boyfriend would be the gentleman and not get you involved. Clearly, he's less of a nice guy than I thought – if that's even possible. You two are so much trouble!"

Cody, rather than feeling offended, as was Chris's all-too-obvious intention, swelled with pride. Chris may have felt Noah's care to let Cody know what was going on went against all rule of chivalry – and maybe it did – but Cody knew full-well that was just Noah's way of saying that he believed Cody was strong enough to deal. And Cody was _proud_ Noah could think for himself, following what he interpreted was the best course of action without falling back on a set of prewritten, impersonal rules. Or once could, Cody admitted ruefully. Noah's coddling had begun almost immediately after telling him about the jamming device.

Chris noticed neither Cody's broad smile grow in response to Noah's name, nor how said smile had suddenly, inexplicably vanished. He was positively furious, and the red had not yet faded from his vision. "I can't _believe _you!" he continued to rant. "And if it had only been that failure of a genius, nothing big would have happened. But then you showed up, and – there isn't anyone else, is there?"

The question was bound to come up, Noah had said. But by no means, under any circumstances, was anyone to reveal the aid of anyone else, or worse, let Chris suspect there may be more to the plan than he originally thought. It could mean the loss of extremely important team members.

"Of course there's no one else," Cody replied, his tone becoming rueful and sad. "I didn't want any of the others to know I was . . ." he trailed off, as if he simply couldn't bring himself to say it.

And Chris swallowed it. "Thank God for that!"

Cody stared at his toes, looking like he'd been completely and utterly defeated. In reality, however, his right hand was slowly making its way to its pocket. His job was complete, save for the final step; that is, to initiate the next phase of the operation.

As Cody grasped his cell phone, he chanced a sidelong glance at Chris, ensuring that the movement had passed unnoticed. But he needn't have worried; Chris was fruitlessly attempting to right the computer at the moment, and he had no attention to offer Cody beyond the ceaseless threats. Cody held his breath nonetheless, and hastily, not removing the phone from his pocket, he speed-dialed nine.

Simultaneously, he spoke up, drawing away any chances of Chris noticing his hand. "Where's Noah?"

"Well, I normally wouldn't tell you," Chris replied. "But seeing as you're going to the same place . . ."

"Wait, what?" Cody was aware that his cell phone was ringing softly in his pocket, but he ignored it; neither he nor the other end had to speak in order to convey the point of the call. Rather, he could focus his attentions on deceiving Chris, as a person who'd truly failed his task would not take lightly to being taken prisoner.

"What, did you think I'd really let you go? After everything you've screwed up? Not a chance, man. I'm locking you and your sweetheart up until we can cart you back to the Playa."

"But –!" Cody protested, even as his fingers were blindly fumbling to hang up the phone.

"No buts. Now, you can come quietly, or you can follow in your boyfriend's example and resist. Either way, you're coming."

"Please –!" Cody squirmed away – or at least attempted to. Chris firmly side-stepped blocking his path, and Cody suddenly found himself cornered against the cave wall. Helplessly, Cody stared up at him, a pleading smile twisting his lips.

Cody didn't actually care if he was taken or not; in fact, it was probably best that he _was_ taken. But for all purposes of appearing as if he'd failed in his task, Cody fought capture as if escaping would _somehow_ give him a second chance. And, once again, Chris bought it. He smiled in mock sympathy as Cody strained desperately to get away, his eyes patronizingly kind. "Now, now," he said. "There's no need to make this hard." He snatched Cody's writs, twisting it behind his back with a firm tug. Cody winced as his muscles protested the abuse, but he otherwise made no show of his pain.

"P-please," he begged, amazed at how easily the simpering tone ran through his voice. "Please don't air it."

"Now, it won't be _that_ bad, Cody."

"But . . ."

"It will be worse." Chris smirked, his eyes twinkling maliciously.

--------------------------

Hidden within the underbrush at the dark entrance to the cave, LeShawna cradled her cell phone in her palm. Her gaze was fixed upon the phone's clock, and her foot was tapping incessantly as if to release herself from her bottled excitement. Although everything was running perfectly according to plan, she was anxious to begin her work. Of course, she had no doubt that the mission would continue to go as well as it already had, and other than the slight apprehension, she was completely at ease.

"How long has it been?"

"We're on the last minute," LeShawna assured Geoff, grinned as he bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. But even as she spoke, the phone clock changed.

"It's time, bra!" Geoff gasped.

"I got it, boy. Dontcha worry 'bout it." LeShawna's fingers were already flying across the numbers, and she smirked as she concealed her caller ID with the pound key.

"Hello, Chris? This is the production studios." Somehow, LeShawna had checked her voice, drawing out her letters at a tone an octave higher than usual. Geoff and Bridgette watched on in baited breath as she paused to listen, but LeShawna reassured them with a glance.

"Oh, hey," Chris was saying. "Listen, we're having a little problem with the cameras right now."

"That's why I'm calling. The feeds you forward to us went blank. What happened?"

"Oh, one of the geekier campers isn't too happy about the footage I plan to air tonight and crashed the system. He didn't do much, though, and if we can just get the cameras up and running, we'll be fine. I already have everything for the episode on separate disks. Just for the elimination ceremony – that needs to be _live_."

So Cody had done his job well. LeShawna smirked inwardly, flashing Geoff and Bridgette a thumbs-up. "Got it. We're sending down a technician now. Can you meet him at the docks in five minutes?"

"Make it ten," Chris replied. "It takes that long just to get there."

"Then _hurry_. The technician had a family emergency, and we're already pulling him out of his leave as it is."

"Jeez, _fine_. I'll be there. Bye."

"Wait a second," LeShawna replied hastily, her voice almost dropping back to its usual quality.

But thankfully, Chris didn't notice. "Yeah?"

"You're _sure _you still have the footage?"

"They're on the disks, remember?" Chris answered.

"And where are the disks?"

"In front of me; I just put them next to the computer."

"Okay." Inwardly, LeShawna jubilated as she smirked contemptuously at Chris through the phone. "And the little thief?"

"He's locked up with his _partner_ in crime." The play on words wasn't lost on her. "I can hear them grumbling in the next room."

"Good. Then go down to the docks."

"Will do. Bye."

"Bye."

LeShawna snapped the phone shut, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she stared up at Bridgette and Geoff. The two were watching her apprehensively, but as her gaze met theirs, a smile lit upon their faces. Wordlessly, they knew: Chris had had fallen into their trap.

The plan was running so perfectly, it was almost eerie. But they were positively drunk on their success, and they'd grown blind to logical apprehension. Nothing warned them that perhaps, just perhaps, something would go wrong. Nothing warned them that there was something they'd overlooked.

-------------------------

Cody stumbled into the room, struggling to regain his balance as the door slammed shut behind him. The clack of the lock echoed against the stone walls, but it was barely audible over Chris's shout: "And keep it PG in there!"

Flustered, Cody spun back to the door. "We aren't –!"

"Oh, forget it. He won't listen anyway."

Noah slouched in the corner, looking thoroughly bored. His eyes were closed, and for once, his brow was furrowed in deep concentration, rather than raised with his usual cynicism. His lips, too, were somewhat pursed, but a slight smirk tugged at his lips as Cody fell silent. "Of course, Chris and the producers expect us _not_ to be . . . reserved. They're hoping for it," he added.

"But the cameras are down," Cody pointed out. "What would be the point?"

"These cameras aren't connected to the main system; they've got tapes."

Cody felt a little taken aback, not having expected a technologically-equipped reality television show to fall back on old-fashioned camcorders. But he was intrigued; there was no denying that older technology was one of the best ways to thwart an electronic sabotage. "So we're being recorded right now?"

"No." Noah smirked. "They seem to forget that laziness isn't equitable with physically disabled." He held up his right hand. Between his index and middle fingers lay a small tape, completely unwound and useless – and when he jerked his head upwards, Cody saw the dismantled camcorder.

"Oh. You think of everything, don't you?"

Noah leaned back, his ego visibly growing. "Why, yes. I do. But how did _your_ task go?"

"Perfectly," Cody replied. "Except Chris twisted my arm." And as if for emphasis, he rolled his shoulder, wincing as it ached.

Immediately, Noah's eyes darkened. The corners of his lips turned sharply downward, and his brow furrowed in deep concern. He was on his feet in a second as if ready to fly to Cody's defense at any given moment, his hackles rising at an enemy that wasn't present.

Cody felt his heart sink. He'd almost forgotten Noah's newly-developed habit of smothering him, but the sudden lapse into over-protective behavior brought everything back down upon him like a crushing wall of weight. His chest clenched in frustration, and he struggled to swallow his expression of disappointment.

"Are you okay?" Noah demanded. His tone was sharp, almost like a bark. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm _fine_," Cody assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes._ Noah, I mean it."

Although Cody hadn't meant to be sharp in his reply, there must have been something that betrayed his emotions. Noah glanced up sharply, looking positively bewildered, and Cody suddenly felt his stomach lurch with guilt.

"What's going on?" Noah asked, his lips pursed.

"N-nothing." Cody grinned sheepishly, wishing fervently that he could eat his words. He hadn't meant for Noah to realize his frustrations; if he elaborated, he was certain it would hurt him. Noah might not show it blatantly, but his surly attitude would be enough proof for Cody's suspicions.

Noah, however, seemed either oblivious or uncaring about Cody's hesitation. "Right. Like I'm going to believe that. I've never seen you so obviously _irked_ before."

"Really, it's nothing important."

"Cody, I can't help you unless you tell me what's up," Noah retorted. "I'm not skilled in telepathy, you know."

Cody simply couldn't take it any longer. Noah was coddling him, babying him, and overall not acting as Noah should. This wasn't the person Cody had fallen for; this wasn't the person Cody had accepted his sexual orientation for. This was a stranger. There was a sudden chasm between the two, and Cody felt as if he was alone on an entirely different level.

"That's just it!" he cried.

Noah's eyebrow arched disbelievingly. "What is? My lack of telepathy?"

"No – the helping me!"

"I don't think I quite understand."

"See, that's what I mean." Cody let out a heavy sigh of exasperation. "Why are you treating me like I'm about to break? You suddenly went from understanding my every thought to thinking of me like delicate. _Which I'm not_. And you know that!"

Just as Cody had expected, Noah's expression soured. His lips were pressed tightly together, and he glowered indignantly at nothing in particular. "Well, _excuse me_ for trying to take care of you!"

"I don't need it!" Cody replied. "And when you do, it makes you feel really distant – I don't like it!"

"Are you trying to break up?" Noah's voice was suddenly cold, and Cody felt a chill run down his spine. The very idea was enough to make his throat tighten – to give up Noah after so much fear and pain would be nothing more than a nightmare. He _couldn't_ lose Noah; Cody almost wanted to throw himself at Noah's feet and beg him to forget everything, plead with him to forgive unconditionally.

Almost. "No, I'm not. _Seriously_." And to show all misunderstanding was excused, Cody flashed Noah a slight, wry smile.

"Then what is it?" Noah's frown had not lightened, but just as he had sensed the frustration in Cody's voice earlier, Cody could sense the avid curiosity in Noah's. He let his smile grow reassuringly, feeling somewhat empowered.

"It's that you understand me, Noah. I don't have to pretend to be anything with you – I mean, I can't. You saw through me from the beginning, and I felt I understood you, too. But you're not acting like you know me. I don't think you honestly forgot everything; I think you're just not thinking things through. Since when have you tried so hard to take care of me? Aren't you the same guy who told me he values autonomy above almost everything else? The guy who can't stand clingy, dependent people? It's just all out-of-character, Noah."

Cody paused to take a breath, and a small smirk quirked at Noah's lips. "Nice speech," he commented.

"Noah!"

"Just saying." He peered at Cody, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "But I honestly don't understand why you're so upset about it. As I said, I'm just trying to make things easier for you – and you didn't quite address what was wrong with that issue."

"It doesn't make things easier for me," Cody insisted, hardly noticing as he began to gesticulate wildly. His eyes were wide and pleading, trying to convey the emotions he wasn't sure he could put into words. "Things are easier for me when I know you're there and can help me, but also when I know we're a team. Not protector and ward. I mean, when you told me about Chris finding out that we kissed, I took it better because you were . . . you. Even when you teased me about my pajamas, it helped. Because it reminded me that you knew _everything _about me, even the most embarrassing things, and I knew everything about you. Yet we still care for each other, despite our flaws. And that's why I thought I could survive – I had you."

"Would you like some pancakes with that sap?"

"Noah . . ." Cody replied warningly.

"Okay, okay. Bad time. But if that was the issue, why didn't you just say so earlier?"

"Well . . ." Cody blushed. "I thought you'd be mad at me."

But to his surprise, Noah let out a hollow laugh, and the stress suddenly melted from his expression. "Mad? Oh please. I'm so furious at Chris; I can't spare any anger for anyone else. And even if I _wasn't_ otherwise preoccupied, I'd have to be an imbecile to not realize I was the one at fault here."

"You would?"

"No. It's both our faults."

Cody felt himself cringe, suddenly feeling inexplicably guilty. He couldn't fathom how the issue was _his_ fault, but somehow, Noah's dry tone made it feel as if it was. It was as if Noah's opinion was just as important as his own – and arguing with him was like arguing with himself. Neither belief could be dismissed. "Both? But –!"

"Sure, I shouldn't have been over-protective," Noah interrupted. "But you should have firstly told me off much earlier on, and you didn't exactly let me on that you were coping with the news. As I said before, I'm no skilled hand in telepathy, and as much as I may know you, I'm not perfect. You _were_ giving off all the signs of being utterly distraught."

"But I wasn't!"

"Ah, I'd beg to differ." Teasingly, Noah waggled a finger. "In fact, the borderline purple prose in the last chapter distinctly read: 'Cody buried his face in his hands, groaning helplessly in anguish'. Who _wouldn't_ misinterpret that?"

Cody glowered at him, crossing his arms with a huff. "Like I control the way I'm described."

"Point taken. But leaving the fourth wall somewhat intact, you can understand why I acted the way I did. I was bothered by your dramatic reaction, and, frankly, I never wanted to see you so upset again. I was simply trying to preserve your sanity."

And Cody did understand. His eyes fell to floor, deeply regretful that he had blamed Noah entirely for the issue. Noah had only been trying to help him; although he hadn't gone about the best way doing so, it was the thought that counted – and the thought made perfect sense.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Apology accepted," Noah calmly replied. "I offer my own regrets. And I promise never to be so over-protective again – if you promise to tell me next time something is wrong."

Cody nodded feverishly, his eyes bright. "I _promise_."

"Well, then I'd consider the issue resolved. Agreed?"

"Yeah." Cody's lips were fixed in an exuberant smile, unable to control his euphoria. Of course, it wasn't as if he particularly cared. He simply couldn't believe that he'd worried so much over something that they'd resolved in approximately five minutes, and his heart was fluttering in its excitement. Not only were they conquering problems from the outside world, but they'd conquered the problems within themselves. They were utterly invincible.

Noah draped his warm arms around Cody, holding him close. A small smile was bright in his eyes, and he raised an eyebrow, as if daring Cody to retaliate and cave in to his flustered side. But Cody simply grinned and turned in Noah's arms. With exaggerated nonchalance, he returned the embrace, resting his head gently against Noah's shoulder.

Neither moved; neither spoke. The dark room was utterly silent as they stood there, content in absolutely nothing more than simply one another's presence. It was a simple indulgence, granted, but Cody couldn't imagine anything he'd rather do or anything he'd rather be. A sense of peace washed over him, and as he smiled up at Noah, Cody saw that he wasn't the only one. Noah looked genuinely happier than he'd ever seen him, his eyes half-lidded and just a little self-pleased. Cody grinned, rocking back against Noah's chest.

At that very moment, the door let out a _click _and swung open.

"Hey, come on, dudes –!" Geoff called out. But he cut off suddenly, his eyes widening at the sight of the embrace. "Oh, man," he gasped. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything!"

Cody wrenched away from Noah, his expression set in a strange mixture of indignation and embarrassment. "It's just a _hug_!" he cried. He stared up at Noah, as if requesting back-up, but Noah neither confirmed nor refuted his statement. He simply shrugged, admittedly looking rather amused.

"If you say so, bra . . ." Geoff replied dubiously. "But if you're done, come on. We have to get out of here before Chris comes back."

Noah nodded, pushing Cody impatiently when he failed to immediately respond. "Right. Has Bridgette gotten the disks?"

"She's working on it right now."

"Good. Then let's go."

-------------------------

The camera room was even worse than when Cody had left it. He'd set the area in electronic disarray, but the sorry state of the room had evolved to include physical chaos – papers were strewn everywhere, jewel boxes had popped open and ejected their contents, and wires were hanging from every dark corner. Cody's jaw dropped and, beside him, Noah let out a hollow whistle.

"Oh, hey, guys." Bridgette popped up from behind the desk, her eyes bright with excitement. Her ponytail was coming completely undone, and her sweatshirt had become speckled with dirt, but she didn't seem to have noticed. She was positively beaming. "Are we ready to go?"

Geoff gazed at her adoringly, taking in her disheveled yet exhilarated appearance. "Bridge', you're _amazing_."

"Thanks, Geoff. But are we done here?"

And seeing as Geoff was utterly useless at the given moment, it was Noah who replied: "If you have the footage – yes."

"I do." She smiled, withdrawing a number of disks from her front pocket. "And I got everything from that day, just in case."

"Then let's grab LeShawna and get the _hell_ out of here."

-------------------------

They didn't even pause to say 'hello' as they broke free from the cave. The moment their feet touched forest floor, they were off, racing back down the trail as fast as their legs could carry them. LeShawna led the pack, having started off the second she saw them emerging from the darkness, and even Noah had managed to find a hidden burst of athleticism as adrenaline rushed through his veins.

They crashed through the underbrush recklessly, snapping branches and kicking up clouds of leaves in their wake. Secrecy was no longer important; now, _speed_ was the key. The moment Chris realized what had happened, he would be on their tail in a second, and everyone _knew_ he had far too many gadgets than he knew what to do with. They just needed to get back to the Playa before Chris caught up with them.

Finally, they broke from the tree cover, racing across the beach as best they could in the sand. Geoff had taken the lead, and it was he who made for the rope anchor; simultaneously, the maid started the engine.

This time, neither Noah nor LeShawna paused to take off their shoes, simply dashing through the waves as unceremoniously as the other three. At the boat, the maid helped Bridgette onto the deck, and then she returned to the controls, leaving Bridgette to help the others on board. Geoff's feet were the last to hit the deck – indeed, they'd hardly come down at all when the boat lurched, sending all of them sprawling.

The spray kicked up once more, drenching them more than they already were. But no one particularly cared – even Noah was grinning helplessly – and the thrill of the chase was still sparking in the air. But they were escaping, and they were _succeeding_. They'd defeated Chris at his own game.

The thought was too much, and every passenger on the little speedboat dissolved into giggles.

-----------------------

**Longest. Chapter. EVER. I swear, I didn't mean to write a twenty-page chapter, but it just turned out that way – and I didn't have the heart to split it into two. It is shorter than it used to be, though; I cut out at least five pages earlier on. =P**

**I'm so glad I finished this on time. In approximately an hour, I'm leaving for Japanese immersion camp, and I don't have even so much as a computer to type on. No internet AT ALL for a month (eep!). I wanted to get this done, though, so I only let myself have three hours of sleep last night. ::bleary-eyed:: And it's not as edited as it should be, but I'll do that when I get back, 'kay?**

**Oh, and I know this chapter isn't brilliant. Sorry about that, but I realized that I've been having a lot of problems with purple prose (that is flowery, superfluous wording and language), and that's **_**not good.**_** So, I've been trying to cut it out and learn how to write **_**without**_** purple prose. Until I figure that out, sorry about my mediocre writing. **

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	24. Un Parallèle

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 24 ~ Un Parallèle (A Parallel – because I'm so freakin' obvious like that.)**

**----------------------------**

Chris chuckled, his eyes trained on the retreating boat. Let them think they'd won; let them celebrate their victory. It would be all the more amusement for him when they realized it had been _them _who had been thwarted.

In his fist, a CD labeled "_Backup_" glittered ominously in the setting sun.

A dark smile spread over his lips, and the lopsided strain from his smarting cheek gave it a strange, devious appearance. Yes, give them the peace of mind now. He could destroy it all too easily later.

"_Adieu_, lovelies," he crowed, saluting in the vague direction of the boat. At this point, they were far enough away that they wouldn't be able to hear him if he shouted; Chris threw back his head and laughed. "Enjoy yourselves while it lasts!"

**----------------------------**

Cody lay sprawled upon Noah's bed, and beside him, Noah rested a book on his knee, multitasking as always between social interactions and reading.

"So . . ." Cody ventured.

But he wasn't addressing Noah. LeShawna and Bridgette reclined on the couch of Noah's suite, Geoff settled comfortably between them, and all three were eyeing them with an expression of vague amusement.

After returning to the Playa earlier that afternoon, Noah had invited them all up into his room to hang out – or rather, Cody had invited them, and Noah had simply consented with a noncommittal "hm". Cody suspected that Noah wasn't entirely pleased with the situation, but it wasn't as if he could have exactly offered up _his_ room; it was once again such a mess that you could lose a small animal amidst the dirty clothes, books, and food wrappers.

He would apologize to Noah later, he resolved. After all, Cody was sure that once Noah had seen his room, he would begrudgingly have to admit that the accommodations were all for the better anyhow.

"What?" Geoff asked.

Cody glanced at him, bemused. "What?"

"Were you going to say something earlier?"

"Oh, right. Um, so you knew about Noah and I the whole time?"

Since they'd returned to the room, the others had filled Cody in on everything that had happened over the past week, from the deal to the techniques and interrogating ("All of which were _extremely_ underhanded," Noah had added). Geoff had recounted gleefully and with vivid overuse of adjectives how he had cornered Noah for the first time, calling him out on his gloomy demeanor, and even Bridgette had some stories to tell.

Frankly, Cody had been shocked. But unlike Noah, he was not upset because he'd been the object of "matchmaking" – in fact, he found it rather amusing. Noah grumbled and whined about every event Geoff and the others recounted, but Cody couldn't help laughing. So what if it had been he whom had been locked in the closet _and _freezer? It waspretty funny, after all.

No, the reason that Cody was upset was that he'd been completely and utterly _oblivious_. So much had occurred right under his nose, and now that it was pointed out to him, there were so many times he should have noticed something afoot. But he hadn't. Not once had he been suspicious.

He felt like an idiot.

"Well," Geoff replied slowly. "We knew about Noah, yeah. I mean, the man told us himself that he liked you an' all."

"Usually, I wouldn't have –," Noah cut in, but everyone ignored him.

"Still, we had no clue that you liked him back, or that you guys hooked up."

Cody's ears turned pink. "Technically, we didn't –,"

"I didn't mean it like that, bra!" Geoff laughed. "C'mon, man – you know, more like, 'get together'."

"Right." Cody ducked his head sheepishly, ears still flaming.

It comforted Cody somewhat that all the time he'd been oblivious to the matchmaking occurring around him, the matchmakers themselves had been equally blind to his emotions. If he'd been the object of their attentions and they hadn't noticed . . . well, maybe he hadn't been the dimmest. Maybe he'd had the right to be oblivious.

"Well," LeShawna suddenly demanded. "If you didn't hook up, what _did _you do? Spill, boy!"

Noah glanced up from his book, shooting LeShawna a glare. "_That_," he replied sharply. "is for us to know, and for you not to speculate about."

"You serious, boy? How'd you expect us to not speculate if you leave it all up to our imagination?"

"Obviously, I'd expect you to exercise at least some degree of dignity and self-control."

"Yeah – _not _gonna happen." She grinned wickedly at him. "So why dontcha just spare yourself some and tell us what happened?"

"It really wasn't much," Cody assured her.

"Which means . . . ?"

"C'mon, LeShawna," Bridgette broke in. "Maybe we should give them some privacy. If they don't want to tell us, that's up to them, isn't it?"

"Hey, I was just givin' them the opportunity to keep me from speculating," LeShawna retorted.

"And I'll tell you again," Noah replied. "_Nothing_ happened. We confessed, kissed, and became boyfriends. That's it."

"You kissed!"

Noah arched an eyebrow. "Did you expect us not to?"

"Never said that, now did I? I was asking you for details."

"And you're not getting them." He turned back to his book.

LeShawna glowered at him fiercely. But Noah was neither phased nor tempted to humor her curiosity – indeed, perhaps just to spite her, he let out a great yawn, pointedly not looking up from his book.

"Aw, c'mon guys," Geoff cut in. "The important thing is that they're together, right? There's no point in fighting over this."

"Whatever," Noah and LeShawna replied simultaneously.

"So, yeah. Cody, want a cupcake?" He gestured at the snack tray that rested on the coffee table before him. "There's still a couple left."

"Sure –,"

"– Don't even think about it, Cody," Noah cut in sharply. He'd glanced up from his book, fixing Cody instead with an intense frown.

Cody stared back at him pleadingly. "But Noah –!"

"No. You know better."

Cody said nothing. He stared at his feet remorsefully, scowling in frustration, but Noah had been right. He _did _know better.

Geoff, on the other hand, was lost. His gaze darted between the two rapidly as if watching a tennis match, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He even stared at the cupcake, as if hoping it would offer him some answers. It didn't.

Finally, after several long moments of this, he threw up his hands in defeat.

"Okay, what are you dudes talking about?" he demanded. "I don't get it."

"Cody isn't supposed to eat sugars," Noah explained, cutting in before Cody could reply. "He's hypoglycemic."

"Which people _aren't supposed to know_," Cody added. He shot a meaningful glance at Noah, but Noah brushed it off.

"Honestly, Cody. Why are you so insecure about it? It's not as if it's your fault that your body doesn't work _flawlessly_."

"Still!"

Noah sighed. "Sorry, then," he said. "I didn't mean to push it out there, but you really shouldn't be so worried about others being aware. And you shouldn't have accepted the cupcake."

Cody opened his mouth to retort something sharply, but then he paused, appearing to have thought better of it. He relented: "Yeah, I suppose you're right – at least about the cupcake part."

"Um, guys?" Geoff broke in. "I'm still kind of lost. What's 'hypoglycemic' again – is it like diabetes, if he can't eat sugar?"

Cody shook his head. "It's more like diabetes' opposite. I have reactive hypoglycemia, which means that when I eat sugar, my body creates too much insulin to metabolize it. People with diabetes don't create any insulin. But too much is bad, too, because it attacks my blood sugar as well, and if I'm not careful, I can become comatose or even die."

"It's not as if _every _sugary meal will cause an attack, but each one has the potential," Noah added. "So, essentially, he's a non-diabetic on a diabetic diet."

"Oh. Sorry about giving you the cupcake."

"Not at all." Cody smiled. "It's not like I told you beforehand . . . but, would you mind not telling anyone else about it?"

"About your hypoglycemia?" Geoff asked. And when Cody nodded, he frowned uncertainly. "Why not?"

"Well . . ."

But before he could reply, Bridgette cut in. "You know, Cody," she said. "It's really not that weird that you're hypoglycemic. No one would think any the less of you for it."

"That's what I keep telling him," Noah agreed.

But Cody said nothing. He didn't have to; everyone in the room was well-aware of his popularity aspirations. And even if they didn't quite agree with him, they could at least understand why he was so uncomfortable with others knowing about his condition.

Finally, Bridgette sighed. "We won't tell anyone, if you don't want us to."

"Thank you."

**----------------------------**

Well, how utterly boring.

Chris sighed, staring at the feed from the long-distance camera that was zoomed in on Noah's suite. He'd been hoping for somethingscandalous – even a kiss would have been nice! But they were just sitting around and chatting. They weren't even alone, as their silly band of matchmakers were hanging out with them, completely and utterly sabotaging any sort of romantic theme he could have made from the scene otherwise.

But how on earth was he supposed to market that? This was _television – _they were supposed to have sex!

Chris groaned and rubbed his temples. Why did he have to do _everything_? It was just as well that he still had something up his sleeve.

**----------------------------**

_Employees (Playa):_

_Please post the attached picture all over the resort. Everywhere. Make sure there is no possible way that a single ex-camper could miss it. Whenever possible, record ex-campers reactions. _

– _Chris_

The maid stared disbelievingly at her computer screen, eyes wide in terror. Noah and Cody were _not _going to like this, not one little bit.

**----------------------------**

**Short chapter – sorry! Although, maybe the fact that Chapter 23 was twenty pages might make up for it? Of course, then I took several months' break, not to mention that this chapter was total filler . . . XD **

**The story is still on **_**official**_** hiatus. NaNoWriMo starts in two weeks, and with 50,000 words to tackle, I really shouldn't be working on this story at all. I still have so much research to do for the novel! (sigh)**

**Thank you so much for your patience. I won't even beg for reviews this time. :)**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	25. Mon Dieu

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 25 ~ Mon Dieu! (My God!)**

**---------------------------------**

Noah's face was expressionless as he stared at the handout, but his skin had gone white. His eyes raced across the page once . . . twice . . . three times. He'd actually read the whole thing upon his first glance, but he simply couldn't accept what lay before him; it just couldn't be real.

"Where –," he croaked. "Where did you get this?"

"Chris e-mailed all of the employees, sir."

Noah stared at the maid, imploring her with his eyes to say it wasn't true. _Take it back_, he thought. _Tell me it's just a practical joke_. But the maid didn't have to reply; Noah knew that it was no joke.

He swallowed. "_All _of the employees, you said?"

"Y-yes."

"Would there be any chance of deleting the e-mail before any of them got it, or of encouraging them to look the other way?" he pressed.

The maid shook her head, looking positively distraught. "I-I'm afraid not," she stammered. "Most of the employees have already gotten the e-mail by now, and those that haven't know that there's something _big_ waiting in their inbox. And s-some of them might be able to be persuaded to ignore it, but most are too scared of Chris."

Noah's heart sank. He'd known it secretly to be true, but he hadn't wanted to accept it – hadn't _needed _to accept it, until the maid had voiced his inner worries.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Noah demanded. Exasperated, he drew a palm over his face. "Cody's not ready to come out to his _parents _yet, let alone the whole world! Heck, _I'm _not even ready to come out to the whole world quite yet!"

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know," the maid whispered.

"Yeah, I know," Noah's lips twisted into a wry, pained smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry," the maid repeated.

Noah just nodded.

**---------------------------------**

Cody's entire face brightened the moment the door opened and Noah walked in. "Hey, Noah!" he greeted excitedly. "I'm working on some sparklers for everyone else to play with while we set up the fireworks display. But I can't decide what color to use . . . I mean, we're almost out of copper benzoate, so blue's out of the question . . ."

"Try colorless," Noah replied flatly. "Sparklers don't need much to be interesting."

Cody suddenly stilled, his smile faltering. Noah's tone was odd; it was softer than Cody had ever heard it before, as if he were trying to assure himself that everything was alright. The sparkle of humor was dead in Noah's eyes; his face was utterly expressionless. There was clearly something bothering Noah – and just as clearly, he was hesitant to voice it. But of course, Cody wasn't going to let him keep it to himself. Carefully, he set down the half-finished sparkler and turned to face Noah.

"Okay, so what happened?"

"Huh?" Too quickly, Noah arranged his face into an expression of bemusement. "What are you talking about?"

"C'mon, Noah, don't play dumb. I know that look."

Noah winced, but he didn't deny it. "I'll tell you later," he promised, turning away so that Cody wouldn't see the anxiety play across his face.

"No," Cody retorted "Tell me now."

"But –,"

"Tell me," he insisted.

"Fine," Noah finally sighed. He simply didn't have the strength to argue right now – and if he was going to be honest, he didn't have the strength to keep it to himself, either. As much as it would pain him to tell Cody that their efforts to stop Chris had been in vain, he didn't have a choice.

Noah took a deep breath. "Cody," he began. "I'm sorry, but . . . we didn't stop Chris. He had some backup somewhere, and he's having our kiss posted all over the Playa for the other campers to discover before he airs it on television." From behind his back, he proffered a copy of the e-mail, complete with the attached image – the image of their kiss.

Wordlessly, Cody took the paper and stared at it. For a moment, he didn't react – but as the true meaning of what Noah was saying sunk in, the blood drained from his face, and his eyes widened in shock. "We didn't –?"

"No, we didn't stop him. I'm sorry, Cody."

Cody swallowed and stared at his toes. "That blows," he murmured.

"I'd say that's an understatement."

Neither of them laughed.

After a moment, Cody glanced up. "Is there really no way to stop him?" he asked hopefully.

But Noah sighed and shook his head. "There isn't," he replied. "At least, not about posting it across the Playa. We might have _some_ chance of stopping him from airing it with the final episode of _Total Drama Island_ when we're spectators for the grand finale, but we're coming out to the twenty ex-campers and who knows how many employees here, whether we like it or not."

The very idea tied Cody's stomach into knots. It had been hard enough to come out to _Noah_, let alone the entirety of the island. And that wasn't even to mention that in the most probable situation, he was going to be exposed to the entire viewing nation – which he would never be ready for, not even if he lived a thousand years.

Something warm came across Cody's shoulders. He jumped in surprise, but when he glanced up, he found himself being pulled into Noah's arms. After a moment, he began to relax, letting his arms come up to hold Noah back. The hug wasn't just for himself, he knew; Noah needed it just as much as he did. Neither of them wanted to face the reality.

And yet they had to. Cody's grip tightened, drawing on the embrace for all it was worth. They had to face it; they could not escape.

"Noah," he murmured softly. "I have to tell my parents."

For a moment, Noah was silent. Cody could feel him stiffen slightly, when he finally replied, his tone was soft. "Are you sure?"

Cody nodded. "I have to."

"Okay."

Noah didn't have to say that he would be next to Cody the whole time; he didn't have to say he would take over if the conversation became too difficult. They both knew he would, as clearly as they knew that the coming days would be amongst the hardest in their lives.

Cody took a deep breath, steadying himself against Noah's embrace. "Give me a minute," he muttered. "And then let's get this over with."

"Of course."

----------------------------

In the end, it took Cody a full five minutes to prepare himself mentally, but when he finally pulled away, it seemed that he could have used a little while longer. Concerned, Noah frowned at him.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Not really," Cody answered with a weak smile. "But as ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

Noah nodded, understanding. "Do you want to call now?"

"Yeah . . . I can use my cell phone. If I wait until I get up to my room to use the landline, I might not be able to carry it out."

He certainly wouldn't have; his resolve was already wavering by the time he dug his cell phone out of his pocket. Cody swallowed, his fingers trembling as he dialed the number. He half wanted to chuck the cell phone across the room, to let his parents find out the truth through cable. He didn't want to face them, and they would have found out anyway. So why put himself through the stress? But, inwardly, Cody knew that it would be utterly unfair to brush his parents off like that – and by some miracle, he managed to finish punching in the number.

The line began to ring.

Cody's stomach was churning viciously. It felt as if centuries passed between rings, and, if Cody hadn't been frozen by nerves, he honestly would have hung up right then and there. He couldn't do it; he couldn't tell them.

Suddenly, Noah's arms were around him again, and Noah was whispering softly into his ear: "Don't be a dolt, Cody. You were so scared of telling Geoff and the others about your hypoglycemia – and did anything bad happen when you did?"

No, nothing had. Cody had expected jokes and ridicule; after all, none of the 'popular' kids he'd known ever had any kind of obvious physical setback. His own condition had been bound to bring in all kinds of teasing . . . except that it hadn't. In reality, no one had cared.

Cody's stomach calmed somewhat. His grip on the phone relaxed, and he smiled faintly, mouthing_ "Thank you"_ to Noah. Noah's lip twitched in response.

But Cody's heart still stopped in mid-beat when the other end suddenly picked up.

"Hello?" came his mother's voice, stern with her business-like tone.

"H-hey, Mom," Cody stammered. "It's me."

The effect was instantaneous. The coolness of her tone vanished, chased away by the radiating warmth of her sudden, maternal demeanor. She positively gushed in excitement: "Oh, Cody! I'm so glad you called. I've missed you so much lately . . . you haven't called us nearly as much as we would like."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I'll try to call more often."

"That's good. We worry, you know."

He did know; without their unwavering concern, without having known how much they _did_ care for him, Cody wasn't sure if he would have been able to carry this out. He may not have ever found the courage to tell them, had they ever been any less supportive. His grip on the phone tightened as he absorbed her words like a lifeline.

"I-is Dad there?" he asked.

"Why, yes," his mother replied. "He just got home a little while ago. Why? Would you like to talk to him?"

"Kind of. Actually, can you put me on speaker phone? There's something I want to tell both of you."

At his words, Noah squeezed his shoulder in reassurance – and instinctively, Cody leaned against him.

"Speaker phone?" Cody's mother echoed. "Well, give me a moment. I'll bring him down here."

"Okay."

The other end clicked as the phone was set down, and Cody could hear his mother's footsteps fading into the distance. Otherwise, however, silence had fallen completely. Cody swallowed and struggled to calm his racing heart.

"Define _'antepenultimate_'," Noah said suddenly.

Cody stared up at him, taken aback. Covering the mouthpiece of the phone, he replied: "What?"

"Just do it."

"Um. 'Ante-' . . . that means 'before'. 'Penultimate' is 'second-to-last' – so 'antepenultimate' must be 'third-to-last'."

"Good. And '_afterwit_'?"

Suddenly, Cody understood what Noah was doing. As he mulled the words over in his head, he was slowly calming; his heart had stopped racing, and his thoughts were becoming more coherent. As the knot in his stomach began to lessen, Cody felt a sudden surge of affection towards Noah. "Wouldn't that be something like 'after knowledge'?" he asked.

"Yes. It's knowledge that comes too late to be of any use – usually from experience," Noah replied. "'_Ambrosial_'?"

"Something good, I'd guess."

"Quite. Specifically, of god-like taste or smell – from the mythological Greek '_ambrosia'_."

"Oh, I should've –!"

But suddenly, Cody broke off with a wave of his hand. In the background, he could hear the tell-tale footsteps of his parents' approach.

"Hello, Cody?" his mother called. "We're here now. What did you want to tell us?"

He could hear the anxiety in her voice – but that was only to be expected. After all, it wasn't everyday he called home suddenly to ask to talk to both parents at the same time. Cody could only hope that she wouldn't find the situation to be all that grave. He inhaled deeply, steadying himself.

"Mom, Dad . . . I don't really know how to say this, but . . . I'm bisexual, and I have a boyfriend."

Noah's fingers dug into Cody's shoulder, but on the other end, his words were met with nothing but silence. Anxiety mounted in Cody's chest, and suddenly, it was becoming had to breathe.

"Cody?" It was his father this time.

"Yes, Dad?"

"How do you know? Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Cody answered, his voice almost a whisper by this point. "I know when I have a crush – and this time, I'm crushing on a boy."

More silence, and then his mother spoke up. "Cody, we trust you. We won't lie to you: this will take some getting used to on our part, but we won't question your judgment. We know you're a good boy."

"So, you're okay with it?"

"Of course we're okay with it. As I said, it will take some time before we completely accept it, but you're our son, Cody. You've never done anything to disappoint us."

Cody's throat tightened – from gratitude, or nerves, he wasn't quite sure. "Even – even with what they say in the Bible?"

"Well, do _you_ think you're sinning?" his father asked, hardly missing a beat.

"I – well, no."

"Then, as your mother said, we trust you. After all, if we still followed everything the Bible said, women would still be property, right? Times have changed."

"Right," Cody muttered weakly. "Thank you."

"There's no need to thank us," his mother pointed out. "We love you, no matter what – and this doesn't change a thing. You're still our son."

"Thank- . . . I mean, I love you, too."

Cody's stomach was still churning with lingering anxiety, but it was lessened, and a sense of relief had settled over him. He grinned at Noah, offering him a thumbs-up. Noah just rolled his eyes.

"Told you so," he whispered.

"So," Cody's mother was saying. "Who is your . . . boyfriend?"

Cody could hear the hesitation in her voice as she struggled to get out the words, but he felt his heart lighten nevertheless in gratitude of her efforts. As she'd reminded him earlier, it would take a while for them to be fully-comfortable with this information – and the fact that they were trying so hard made Cody feel extremely optimistic.

He smiled slightly. "Do you remember Noah?" he asked. "He was the third person to be voted off – he couldn't get his nose out of his books long enough to participate in any physical challenges."

Noah glared at him sulkily, but Cody just rolled his eyes. _You know it's true_, he mouthed. Noah did not reply.

"Oh, _him_?" Cody's mother said after a moment. "Well, he seemed like a very bright boy."

Cody didn't miss the fact that she left out his apparent friendly demeanor – or rather, lack thereof. At the same time, however, it didn't bother him. In fact, a small smile tugged at his lips; he knew his mother, and he knew Noah. The two would get along perfectly – what, with their aloof manners, high esteem of intellectual abilities, and love of a good argument, they were truly kindred spirits. But, of course, Cody knew neither would ever confess their full approval of the other; they would both say the other was simply: "nice". The thought amused Cody deeply.

"Yes, he's very smart," Cody replied. "Actually, he's right here. Would you like to talk to him?"

A pause. Then: "No, not right now, Cody. Maybe another day, but I think that would be too much for your father and I. We're still trying to take all this in."

"I understand." To Noah, who was watching him expectantly, Cody shook his head. Noah shrugged, but Cody could sense he was a little put-out that he didn't get to talk to his parents. Noah always did like to make an impression.

"That's good, dear," his mother said. "And thank you very much for telling us – it means so much."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I called."

"Cody," his father suddenly broke in. "I know that this may not be the best time, but do you mind calling back later? I'm waiting for a call from work."

"What? Dear, he only just called!" Cody's mother sounded positively aghast.

But Cody smiled, in both understanding and amusement at his mother's reaction. "No, Mom, it's fine. I'll call you back tomorrow."

"But Cody –!"

"Really, it's _fine_."

She heaved a heavy sigh. "_Boys_. Well, alright. But you swear you'll call back first thing tomorrow morning?"

"Of course," he promised.

"Take care, then. I love you, Cody."

"Love you, too, Mom. I'll talk to you guys later. I love you, Dad."

Cody's dad coughed. "Right. Love you, too, son."

The line clicked dead.

Cody glanced up at Noah, his heart light although it still raced with lingering nerves. For a moment, he said nothing. But then a broad smile spread across his face, and he laughed aloud: "They accepted us, Noah! They're okay with it!"

"What did I tell you, braniac?" Noah retorted, but he returned Cody's excited embrace nevertheless.

"Fine; you were right. Happy now?"

"Quite."

Cody rolled his eyes. "Arrogant jerk. Okay, so I've done my part. When are you going to call your parents?"

"Whatever for? Remember, they knew I was gay before I knew what the word _meant_."

"Because," Cody explained, sounding a little exasperated. "You are going to be aired on national television kissing _me_. And even if it weren't, don't you think it would be considered common courtesy to tell your parents when you get a boyfriend?"

"As if they'd be able to remember your name. No offense, of course – it's just that with _nine_ children, it's quite difficult for them to remember who's dating whom."

"_Sure_. You're still telling them, Noah."

Noah wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Come on, Cody. Don't make me do this. Do you have any idea how hard it is to tell nine overzealous siblings _plus _in-laws, nephews, nieces, and what-not that I finally have a boyfriend? I'd be drowning in the excitement."

"They'd find out anyway via Chris."

"Yeah, but at least this way I can ward off the storm a little longer," Noah countered.

"Coward."

"Hey, I didn't push you to come out to _your _parents."

"But this is different," Cody replied calmly. "I didn't want to for fear of rejection; my parents are devout Christians, after all. You, on the other hand, are simply being anti-social."

Noah opened his mouth to retort something heatedly, but before he could get the words out, he stopped. Cody was right. "Fine," he sulked. "But I'm calling _tomorrow_. You can at least give me that."

"Tomorrow," Cody agreed.

"Great. Now why don't we finish those sparklers you were working on? We only have a couple days left."

"Actually . . ." Cody grinned sheepishly at Noah, uncertainly rubbing the back of his head. "I'm still feeling kinda jittery about having come out to my parents and all. I thought maybe I could go take a walk on my own for a bit? Just to calm down."

Noah shrugged. Some boyfriends might be offended that Cody didn't want to stay around him in order to calm down, but not Noah. He knew better than anyone that sometimes solitude was the best medicine. "Don't let me stop you. I'll be here, though, until nine. Then I'll be up in my room, and if you want to play videogames, stop by anytime."

"Thanks. See you, then."

"Later."

----------------------------

Cody found himself in the dining room, alone amongst the remains of the buffet. He eyed it hungrily – but the hunger came not from his stomach at all. His feet were sore from his wanderings, and he was utterly fatigued from the long day. Perhaps, he thought, a small 'midnight' snack couldn't hurt. It could even serve to soothe his mind.

Cody grabbed a plate and began to heap onto it a small serving of salad.

Well, coming out to his parents hadn't been nearly so bad as he had expected. There had been shock, yes, and his parents couldn't quite _fully_ accept it quite yet, but that was far better than anything he'd dared hope for. He'd been expecting some full-blown rejection; he'd been certain they demand he repent and change, to try to convince him through their tears that he was making a horrible mistake. Cody smiled grimly to himself. He really had to give his parents more credit.

Regardless, the experience _had _been nerve-wracking. Even with Noah at his side the whole time, he hadn't quite been able to calm his heart or fill the pit that had become his stomach. He could barely breathe during the entirety of the conversation. Even now, he was still a little high-strung.

At least it was over, he admitted to himself. That hurdle was done with . . . now, all he had to focus on was coming out to the _entire nation_.

Cody's knees went weak.

How on earth was he supposed to do that – to confess to every homophobe of the viewing audience: "yes, I'm gay!"? How could he expose himself to the inevitable hatred and harassment? He'd have to face friends back home who would never forgive him for not having told them beforehand; he'd have to deal with insecure bullies heckling him in the hallways. There'd be another stereotype ever which way he turned, and, God, it would be worse that simply coming out to the school, because he would have come out to the whole _nation_. Even in college, people would recognize him as 'the gay guy from _Total Drama Island'. _

Cody groaned, holding his face in his hands. He'd worried about this reality once before, when he'd been paranoid about confessing to Noah. When it turned out he'd been wrong, his sense of relief was simply _indescribable, _it was so profound. And yet – his nightmares from back then were cruelly becoming his reality.

He let his eyes wander over the buffet table, trying to calm himself down. _It'll be okay_, he told himself as he stared unseeingly at the pasta. _It was okay when Noah let slip about your hypoglycemia. It was okay when you came out to your parents_. But Cody knew that this time, it would be different. Even if one reaction was okay, the next might not, or the next. Millions of people would be watching the film; there couldn't be a million positive reactions. His gaze drifted over the turkey, the mashed potatoes, the drinks. _Just don't think about it_.

Finally, his gaze settled on the desert table. He stared at the chocolate cake blankly, utterly desolate. _That's right; if I don't think about it, I can handle it. _He inhaled deeply. _Let it come as it will._

Suddenly, his gaze locked on the chocolate cake, as if seeing it for the first time.

Noah would never approve, he knew. But his nerves were frayed, and he would never be able to handle any sort of added stress in his present state. He needed to calm down. And besides, it wasn't even as if his diabetic diet was an absolute necessity – as Noah had confessed himself, it was only a precaution. Right now, Cody needed nothing more than to chase away his stress, and being cautious was the least of his priorities. That chocolate cake would do the trick – after all, what Noah didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Cody pushed aside the remains of his uneaten salad and approached the buffet table.

----------------------------

**. . . What really scares me about this chapter is that if I hadn't been lazy and chosen to read or play the Sims instead of write, I could have finished this chapter in a day. Wow. Maybe I am ready for NaNoWriMo. XD**

**Constructive criticism, as always, is loved. And if you do praise the chapter, please be specific – what scenes exactly did you like? Any lines? How were the characterization, themes, and techniques? If you leave a lengthy review, or ask any questions (and have signed in), I promise I will reply.**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


	26. Répercussions

**Secrets of a Matchmaker**

**Chapter 26 ~ Répercussions (Repercussions)**

----------------------------

Ten o'clock at night. It had been three hours since Cody called his parents; two and a half hours since he'd come back from his walk. He and Noah were hanging over the couch in Noah's suite, taking turns kicking each other's butt in _Brawl_.

But Cody's mind wasn't in it. He could only focus on the bitter aftertaste of chocolate lingering in the back of the throat – although all logical rationale told him that it was nothing more than his imagination. The taste itself had faded long ago, and yet . . .

Cody swallowed. Somehow, he was sure, if Noah looked hard enough, he would be able to see the cake through the walls of his stomach or the dark aftertaste that consumed him with guilt. He would know what Cody had done. And Cody wasn't sure if he could deal with that disappointment, not now.

God, he should have thought of that earlier.

"Cody?" Noah suddenly said.

Cody jumped nearly a foot in the air. "Y-yes?"

"Are you okay? You're acting a little jittery."

"Y-yes, I'm fine," he babbled. He had to calm down; he couldn't let Noah be suspicious. "I just really want to beat you."

"O-_kay_." Noah said slowly, uncertain. "Well, I wanted to tell you that I was rather impressed with the way you came out to your parents."

"Really?" Great; now Cody was going to feel guiltier.

"Yeah. You were extremely courageous throughout the entire conversation, and you did it all yourself."

"Oh, well . . ."

A faint blush had painted itself across Noah's cheeks. He wasn't used to handing out compliments. "Actually," he murmured. "I'm quite grateful my family figured out my sexual orientation without me having to tell them. It'd be hard to rival a coming-out conversation like yours."

"But I didn't even do that much," Cody protested. _Please, stop it_, he begged inwardly. _I promise to never to succumb to stress again – just stop it!_

"No, really. You handled the stress so well . . ."

Okay, was Noah _purposefully_ doing this? Cody grit his teeth, pressing his clammy, sweaty palms together.

Suddenly, he froze. _Sweaty_ . . . that rang a bell somewhere, but where, he wasn't quite sure. It was something important, however. He sensed he needed to remember; he needed to remember it _now_. But what on earth was it?

"Cody? Are you sure you're okay?" Noah was frowning at him.

"Y-yeah, I think so. Wait, no; I'm not sure." Cody was blabbering again. "My hands are all sweaty . . . doesn't that mean something? I don't know. I think it does. Does it?"

"Cody!"

Noah was suddenly on his feet, and he grasped Cody's palms, turning them over. The sweat glinted in the light of the television screen – and Noah went pale, horrible comprehension alight in his eyes.

Cody, however, just stared at him blankly. "Huh?"

"Sweaty . . . jittery . . . disorientated . . . ," Noah muttered under his breath. "It's a hypoglycemic attack."

"What?"

Cody was struggling to process this information through the heavy fog that was settled on his mind, but it was difficult. Hypoglycemic attack . . . no, certainly not. That would mean that the cake had . . . had it? Oh, God. But inwardly, Cody knew it was true. Now that Noah had mentioned it, Cody knew that was _exactly _what he'd been struggling to remember.

His body had already metabolized the sugars from the cake, but his insulin was still on the rampage. It was attacking his blood sugar – and had attacked it enough so that his body was in a panic. Adrenaline coursed through his system, compensating for the lack of blood sugar, and it was showing. He was jumpy, sweating excessively, disorientated, and feeling slightly intoxicated. And if it continued unchecked, the attack would only escalate.

"Cody!" Noah demanded sharply, somehow cutting through the fog of Cody's mind. "Where are your glucose tablets?"

"Glucose tablets . . . ?"

"Yes, _glucose tablets_. Where are they?"

"Oh, um . . ." Cody struggled to remember. "In my room . . . on the bathroom sink."

"Okay. Stay here and _don't _move. I'm going to run and grab your glucose tablets for you. Give me your room key."

Cody fumbled in his pocket. Noah watched him impatiently, shifting his weight from foot to foot in his anxiety. "Come on," he muttered under his breath.

"Ah . . . here you go." Finally, Cody held the key out to Noah.

Noah didn't even pause to say thanks as he bolted out of the room as fast as his legs would carry him.

----------------------------

_Thank God his room is close, _Noah thought desperately as he swung around a bend. _One flight of stairs and a couple rooms over . . . it could be so much worse_.

In fact, he was so intent on getting to Cody's as fast as humanly possible (preferably faster), that he didn't even notice the first flyer. But then, as if having just processed what he had seen, he suddenly ground to a halt.

A small piece of paper was taped to the wall. The image upon it was black and white and fuzzy, but there was no mistaking what it was depicting: Noah and Cody's rooftop kiss.

Noah ground his teeth as his stomach clenched in frustration. These people had no sense of morals, did they? How could they think it was right to expose them to everyone like a snippet of tabloid gossip? God, reality television or no, they were _off _the show, and there should be some sense of decency!

But Noah knew inwardly that asking Chris and his employees to exercise decency was silly and nothing more than idealistic thinking. Chris being empathetic? _That _would only happen when hell froze over – or worse. And at the moment, Noah had some bigger issues to deal with – namely, the hypoglycemic teenager in his room.

Taking a deep breath, Noah raced by the poster.

----------------------------

By the time Noah returned with the glucose tablets, Cody was feeling positively dizzy. He sat upon the couch, resting his head in his hands, and willed the world to stop spinning. Even when the door opened, he didn't glance up.

"Here," he heard Noah say. "Eat this."

A small tablet was pressed into his hands. Cody didn't open his eyes, but he obediently put it into his mouth and swallowed. It was ironic, actually, that the one time he was really allowed to _have _pure sugar, he was too dizzy to actually taste it. He grimaced to himself at the thought.

"Lie down. If you're not feeling better in five minutes, I'll give you another."

"Okay," Cody mumbled.

"And I want you to stay here tonight so that I can keep an eye on you. You can sleep in my bed, but if you'd like, I'll take the couch."

"Okay," he said again. He still wasn't quite in the mood to argue.

"Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

"What?" Cody answered vaguely. "Oh, well, no." He knew from experience that the couch was by no means a comfortable place to sleep, and he didn't want to enforce that upon Noah – especially when it was _he_ who was the guest in the room. Even in his dazed state, he had more manners than that.

"Okay, then," Noah consented. "I have just one more question for you. Or would you like to rest now?"

"No, I can handle a question."

"Well, then: was this attack completely unprovoked?"

Cody felt himself wither under Noah's stern gaze. He didn't bother to deny it; he knew that somehow Noah had sensed the truth, and that lying would be of no use. Weakly, he shook his head. "I – I ate some cake."

Noah sighed heavily. "Why, Cody?"

"Because . . . I was trying to calm down. I was too nervous."

Noah did not reply for a long time.

----------------------------

Cody's father had not expected to see Cody's cell phone number on the caller ID for the second time that day. Indeed, at first, he thought it must be a mistake; the caller ID must be acting up again. But no – it had been fine earlier.

Feeling somewhat worried, he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" It was a voice Cody's father didn't know.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Am I talking to Cody's father?" came the odd voice.

"You are," he replied. "And who are you?"

"Noah – Cody's boyfriend."

His breath caught in his throat. _Boyfriend. _He knew he was supposed to be making an effort for Cody's sake, but honestly, it was just so hard to accept. He'd never imagined that Cody had been anything other than straight – God knew how many girls the boy flirted with – and this revelation had thrown him for a loop. He didn't know what to make of it.

But much worse, by far, was the fact that Cody had promised to give him time before making him talk to Noah. Cody always kept to his promises – but three hours could hardly be considered much time in the given situation. For Noah to be speaking with him now, something must have come up – something serious.

"Noah?" he echoed. "Well, nice to meet you. Is there any particular reason you're calling?" But even as he asked it, dread was growing in his stomach. He already knew the answer.

"I wish I could say otherwise," Noah replied. "Unfortunately, however, I'm calling to tell you that Cody has had a hypoglycemic attack."

"What?!"

Noah hastened to add: "He's fine now, of course. I gave him some glucose tablets, and now he is asleep. I just thought you might want to know what had happened."

"Oh, of course. Thank you." Cody's father let out a shaky breath.

"You're welcome. I'm also keeping him in my room to keep an eye on him, and tomorrow morning, I'll have him call you."

Forget tomorrow; Cody's father wanted to talk to his son _now_. But he forced himself to calm down. Right now, the best thing for Cody was rest, and a little anticipation never hurt anyone. "Okay, then. Are you sure he's alright now?"

"Positive. He'd completely snapped out of his disorientation before I put him to bed."

"That's good." He had to struggle to restrain from demanding exactly how Cody had acted. He was concerned, yes, but Noah seemed to know what he was talking about, and he _had_ mentioned giving Cody the glucose tablets – that was the important thing.

"Is there anything I've forgotten?" Noah was asking.

"Hm? Oh, no, that's it," Cody's father replied. "Just make sure he eats properly tomorrow: five or six meals, one every couple of hours."

"Of course. I apologize for bothering you so late – and with less-than-desirable news, nonetheless."

"It's fine," he assured him. "We appreciate it, actually. But, if you don't mind: do you know what caused the attack in the first place?"

"Yes, I do. Apparently, Cody had been rather stressed-out about the coming-out process, and he decided to calm himself down by indulging in some cake."

Cody's father felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. Essentially, he'd just been told that Cody had risked his life because he'd been too scared to come out to _him_. What that said about him as a father, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out.

"Good night, sir," Noah said suddenly. Then the phone clicked, and the line went dead.

----------------------------

When Cody first awoke the next morning, he could not remember for the life of him where he was. The room wasn't his, that was for sure; for one, he wasn't huddling under a minimal length of whatever blanket hadn't been kicked off the bed. For another, although the entire blanket was on the bed, it seemed to be under severe stress, as if it were anchored on one end and Cody was pulling it in the other direction. And the floor was much too neat. He could not find any sign of discarded clothing, books, or anything else lying anywhere it shouldn't be.

Cody frowned and rolled over. Then his heart suddenly stopped.

Noah was sitting on the other pillow, his nose buried in yet another book. But when Cody rolled over, he glanced up and smirked. "Good morning, Power Ranger. I was wondering when you were going to get up."

"Wha . . . ?" Cody murmured groggily, his cheeks suddenly aflame. "What's going on?"

"You're in my room, remember? You had a hypoglycemic attack last night, and I wanted to keep an eye on you. And you know – I _did _offer to sleep on the couch." He stared pointedly at Cody's blush.

Of course, that only made Cody blush all the harder. "N-no, it's okay. I'm just surprised, that's all."

"Understandable. Well, are you feeling better this morning?"

"Yeah."

"Good," Noah replied curtly. "Now, I took the liberty of ordering up some room service for the two of us. It should be up shortly, and after we eat, I'll call my family."

Cody's eyes lit up immediately. "Really? You're calling them so soon?"

"Yes. After all, my family will be too sleepy as of now to make much of a deal of the matter, and I'm less likely to hang up with a headache."

"Anti-social as always, I suppose," Cody teased.

"Introverted," Noah corrected. "Not anti-social."

"Same difference."

"No comment," he retorted, shooting him a glare that wasn't really felt.

Cody knew it; he grinned brightly – and when Noah's lip twitched, he had to bite his own lip to keep from laughing. "Thanks, Noah."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, taking care of me last night. You were really good about all of it, and it was all because of my stupidity anyway."

For a moment, Noah was silent. Then, haltingly, he replied: "Cody . . . I would be lying if I were to tell you that eating that cake wasn't one of the most _brain-dead_ things I've ever heard of, but . . . it's understandable. I don't blame you for being stressed out. And nor do I blame you for having an underdeveloped reasoning capacity."

"Noah!"

"What? It's part of any teenager's physiology. Even mine."

Cody attempted to retain his scowl, but he couldn't help a smirk from flitting across his features at that comment. "You just sounded like a total narcissist right then."

"Narcissist?" Noah echoed. "Oh, come on. How could I be a narcissist when – . . ." Suddenly, he paused. "I'll refrain from that sappy comment."

But Cody was intrigued. "No, I want to hear it."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"_Believe me_," Noah insisted. "You don't."

"I think I'll be the judge of that, thanks."

Just then, however, their banter was interrupted by a sharp knock. Cody felt the blood rush to his cheeks once more, realizing what position he was in; even on opposite sides of the bed, there was no denying the conclusion _anyone _would jump to. He hastened to disentangle himself from the bedsheets.

Noah, on the other hand, watched him with amusement. "You know, they already know you're staying here. Jumping out of bed so hastily is only going to encourage them."

"Not if they don't see me in bed in the first place," Cody retorted. "Just go get the door already."

"As you wish."

By the time Noah had opened the door, Cody had already arranged himself on the couch, a paperback copy of _Catch-22_ open on his lap.

"Here is your order, sir," he heard the employee address Noah. "One tea, one coffee, an order of eggs, cereal, and fruit."

"Thank you," Noah replied. A moment passed in silence. Then: "Is there any reason that the inside of my suite is so _apparently_ interesting to you?"

The employee flushed, clearly not having realized he'd been so obvious. "N-no, sir. My apologies," he said. At the same time, however, his gaze was focused past Noah; he'd heard that Noah had his boyfriend in here, and he wanted to confirm the rumors with his own eyes.

Noah's frown darkened. "Well, then," he answered coolly. "Good day." Taking the tray, he slammed the door in the employee's face.

Cody glanced up from his place on the couch. "Now who's encouraging them?" he teased.

"Shut up."

Cody just grinned.

----------------------------

**First of all, I lost half this chapter 'cause I stupidly forgot to save after two hours of work. D= So I would have had this up yesterday, had it not been for my lack of common sense. My apologies!**

**Secondly, this is probably the last chapter I'll put up for the next month. NaNoWriMo starts this Sunday, and although I **_**might **_**be able to post a new chapter by then, I'm not making any promises. So, in case I can't: **_**Ciao**_** for now!**

**~KiraKira-Kirimi**


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